One Little Thing
by peetz5050
Summary: It's 2011 and Daria Morgendorffer, just arrived from Highland, has made a new friend at Lawndale High but there's something missing in her life and she doesn't write anymore...
1. Chapter 1

_For the purpose of this AU the version of Esteemsters I've written here has been time shifted forward so the following scene takes place in September 2011, a couple of weeks after Jane Lane starts her Sophomore year at Lawndale High. Some dialogue by Glenn Eichler and Susie Lewis Lynn._

_This is fanfiction, done for fun and no money is being made. Daria and related characters are the property of Glenn Eichler and MTV/Viacom._

**One Little Thing** Chapter 1

'So then all the girls go to a different class and a female counselor talks to them about "body image".'

'What do the boys talk about? Do you know?' The new girl who'd just transferred in from what she described as "The Absolute Arsehole of Texas" asked her new friend.

'A room full of boys and a male counselor?' Jane Lane, artist extraordinaire asked.

The two girls stopped and looked at each other. 'Nocturnal emissions!' They said in unison, then laughed.

Daria looked quizzically at Jane through her rose tinted John Lennon glasses and asked 'You said you've done this course six times. Why can't you test out?'

'I could test out, I have all the answers in my notebook, but I like having low self esteem, it makes me feel special.'

'That isn't very funny Jane, low self-esteem is a serious issue.'

Jane looked sideways at the shorter girl, considering. 'No' she answered. 'The only funny thing is that the powers that be in Lawndale High think that Manson and O'Neill between them are competent to deal with any psychological issue, it's really just a class where they dump kids who don't toe the line and give pat answers to Manson's dumbass tests. As regards to actual help you might as well read fortune cookies, or the aphorisms on the bottom of your daily calendar... Don't wish to be nosy but have you...'

'I've had some therapy... but I'm all better now.' Daria flashed her a totally false toothy grin that wouldn't have looked any better on a month old corpse.

'Anything to do with the limp? If you don't mind me asking.' Jane's artistic eye had spotted the deformity in the thigh muscle in Daria's left leg through the skin tight jeans she wore. Her lower legs encased in serious looking knee-length biker boots. A many strapped and studded leather jacket completed the ensemble.

They walked along in silence for a short while. Jane was afraid she might have pushed her luck with the first interesting person she'd met in High School. She was about to apologize when Daria finally answered. 'Yeah... kinda. You noticed the limp huh?'

'Hey it's not that bad, you'd hardly know...'

'My left leg is shorter by almost an inch, there's only so much they can do with bone grafts... I suppose I'm lucky... I nearly lost the leg.'

'Accident or illness?'

'Car accident. I was on the wrong side of the car. My folks walked away without a scratch... look I don't like talking about it, ok? Can we talk about something else, please?'

'Anything else, amiga, didn't want to upset you, sorry, ok?'

'Can we just... forget about it?' After a pause she said 'You said you were an artist. What's your medium? Daria asked.

'Paint... oils mostly... but I do acrylics, watercolors, line and gouache... I also do sculpture and mixed media when the muse strikes.'

'Nothing digital?'

'I'd love to try it, I did a course in Photoshop at this art camp I was in during the summer, but my computer is so old it runs on coal... even if I could afford the software...'

'I have Photoshop on my Mac, wanna come in and give it a try?'

'Your folks won't object?'

Daria snorted. 'They won't be home for hours, come on, I'll order in a pizza.'

'Now you're talkin'!'

They approached a substantial looking red bricked house. 'Nice crib.' Jane quipped. 'Do you have many brothers and sisters?'

'I'm an only child.'


	2. Chapter 2

**One Little Thing** Chapter 2

'So... why'd your family leave Texas?' Jane asked as they climbed the stairs to Daria's room.

'Well we would have left sooner only my Mom was waiting for the right opening. She's a lawyer and wanted to make sure she got in someplace she could make partner. My Dad is self employed so his business is portable, he's an advertising and publicity consultant.'

Jane noticed that Daria had neatly sidestepped the actual question. She looked around as they walked, everything looked brand new and of good quality. 'Must be doing well in their businesses.' She thought to herself. They stopped in the hallway, Daria looked a little nervous suddenly, she said 'Ehmm, bathroom's over there if you need it... my room is a little... odd... the previous owner kept a mentally disturbed relative in here so the walls are padded... I kept it because it makes great soundproofing, less complaints when I'm practicing.' She smiled a little sadly at Jane. 'Now's the time to bail out if the weirdness is getting to you.'

'Nah, weirdness is kinda my thing. So long as I'm not your next victim Dexter.'

Daria smiled for real this time. 'Why, are you a murderer? I love that show too, it's better than the original books which is the opposite of what you usually get.'

'You read books! Oooh, don't let that get out in Lawndale High, they'll burn you at the stake.' They had entered Daria's room as they talked. Jane looked around and said 'Whoa!'

It looked more like a boy's room than a teenage girl's. Posters of various rock bands were pinned to the walls. Mostly seventies and eighties hard rock acts. A life-sized poster of Angus Young from AC/DC in his schoolboy outfit adorned the back of her bedroom door. The wall near her wardrobe was lined with laden down bookshelves. The other end of the room...

'Wow! Morgendorffer... I mean seriously, wow! I take it you play?'

Pride of place near the bed was a black Epiphone acoustic guitar on a black metal stand. Three electric guitars were hung on the wall, one of them a bass. There was a full sized electronic drum kit and a performance grade Yamaha keyboard. Various cables connected into some piece of electronic wizardry which in turn was hooked up to a 27" Apple IMac with an auxuliary screen on each side. There was also a vocal mike set up with a spit screen in front of it. Massive (for a bedroom) Bose speakers flanked the whole assemblage. Used as Jane was to band gear this was the best set-up she'd seen outside of a recording studio.

'Ehh, yeah, I kinda do. I used to play classical guitar but since the... lately I prefer to play the electric and rock my face off.'

'My brother's in a band. He would kill and eat somebody to get his hands on gear like this... though... he doesn't think much of electric drums...'

'Neither do I actually. I have a proper kit in the garage but... every now and then I like to sit in and bash hell out of the drums... it's therapeutic... cathartic.. but my folks don't appreciate being woken up at 3 a.m. by me playing "Dance with the Devil". At least I can play these with headphones on. Pizza order?' She asked, taking an iPhone out of her pocket.

'Anything... in fact everything but anchovies.'

'Soo... banana, maple, pineapple.'

'Noooo! Anything meat, just order the carnivore special... and whatever you're having yourself.'

'Gee, thanks.'

'It'll be my treat next time, I promise' Jane smiled as she spoke, making a cross-your-heart gesture followed by a boyscout salute.

Daria phoned in the order while Jane picked around at the instruments. The iMac woke up when she touched the mouse and Pro Tools came up on the screen.

Jane swung around on the leather office chair and looked speculatively at Daria.

Daria disconnected her call and said 'Thirty minutes or less. What?'

'You're all set up to record here. Would you consider an offer to record a demo cd for my brother's band? They can't afford studio time again and they've got a lot of new material that's a big improvement on their old junk. They'll be able to pay you... ehm... something anyhow, whaddya say?'

'Sure, they don't need to pay, I'd do it for the lols and experience. I'm getting tired just doing my own stuff. Are they any good?'

'Honestly no, but they're improving... don't get me wrong here... but... are your folks really rich or something? I mean you have all this stuff and no shortage of money and...' Jane was a bit embarrassed now, she continued 'I... we... don't have much... I don't think I could keep up with you, money wise... just in case you think I'm trying to pan handle here...'

Daria was bemused. 'Hey, relax. We're not rich. That is we're comfortable... we got a big settlement from the insurance for my leg... end of my promising ballet career and all that...' She smiled to show she was joking. 'As for this stuff? They're just toys.'

Jane looked doubtful 'Some toys. I should have such toys.' She added, doing a Jackie Mason impression.

'Yeah... toys... the run off and play and don't bother us kind of toys...' Daria was looking at her boots now.

'Hey, my folks are hardly ever home... so snap... ok? My Mom's been away since June and I haven't seen Dad since last year! Let's drink a toast to benign neglect eh?'

Daria raised an imaginary glass and drank. Jane raised her own and said 'Clink.' Then after a few moments said 'So, gonna play me something, dazzle me with your talent?'

Daria seemed pleased, she said 'Do you wanna hear a recording or will I play live?'

'Live is best.'

'Shift over and let me put on a backing track.' Daria leaned into the Mac and clicked the mouse a few times. 'OK, when I give you the nod, press the space bar.' She took off her leather jacket and hung it in the wardrobe. She wore a black t-shirt with a different picture of Angus Young depicted as a saint with a halo on it. She took one of the guitars off the wall and plugged in the lead. Jane recognized it as a Fender John Mayer Stratocaster. Daria checked the tuning and volume level (LOUD) then got herself set in front of the mike and nodded to Jane. Jane pressed the space bar on the iMac keyboard. A long drawn out gong heralded a heavy 4/4 bass drum beat. After eight beats Daria played two chords, after four more beats, three more chords, after four more beats she launched into an intricate blues rock riff backed up by a rhythm guitar and a bass guitar on the backing track. Thirty seconds later the music reduced down to the bass drum beat and she leaned into the microphone. In a growly blues voice she sang 'Whoa, oh, Black Betty (chord) Bam a Lam (chord) Whoa, oh Black... what?' She stopped playing and reached past Jane to tap the space bar, stopping the playback. Jane's eyes and mouth were open so wide she looked like a bowling ball.

'What's wrong, Jane? Too loud?'

'What? Yeah, no, what?... Daria!... That was freakin' awesome! Where'd you learn to play like that?... and you can sing! What? Are you in a band?'

Daria, obviously pleased, said 'You liked it? I've never played in front of anybody before... I wasn't sure... I mean I hoped...'

Just then the doorbell rang.

'Pizza!' They yelled together. Daria unslung her guitar and they headed out the door. On the landing Jane asked 'You've a couple of spare bedrooms I see.'

'Hmm, that's the 'rents' room and that one... that would have been Quinn's.'

'Quinn?'

'My sister... was my sister... she died... we don't talk about it.'

Jane mouthed an "Okay" as she followed Daria down the stairs. She noticed a framed collection of photographs on the wall. Daria was featured in some as well as two people who were obviously her parents. Pride of place though was given to the large central picture of an extremely cute red-haired girl, smiling archly at the camera. She had a similar bone structure to Daria but seemed to have none of her slightly dour disposition. Jane had to ask, before Daria opened the door. 'Was it in the same accident? I have to know.' Daria just nodded and took out her wallet to pay for the pizza.


	3. Chapter 3

**One Little Thing** Chapter 3

The Self-Esteem class was in session again. Mr. O'Neill, the counselor, said 'Excellent! When we talk about "ourselves" we're talking about "us." Now, guys, I've got a little challenge for you. Today we talked about turning your daydreams into reality. Tonight, I want each one of you to go home and do just that. What do you say? Um... you.' He pointed to Daria. 'What's a daydream that you'd like to see come true?

Daria considered this, then she said 'Well, I guess I'd like my whole family to do something together.'

'Excellent!

Daria, in a barely audible voice said 'But that can't happen... not any more...' She then leapt up and ran from the room.

Mr. O'Neill looked puzzled for a moment, then started to get annoyed. He said to himself' 'Young people... no respect, I shall have to speak to Ms. Li and arrange detention for that girl.'

Alarmed, Jane spoke up. 'Mr. O'Neill... I don't think that's a good idea.' She glanced around, one thing she knew for sure about Daria was that she valued her privacy. 'Could we speak outside for a moment, please?'

O'Neill looked unsure but followed Jane out of the door, closing it behind him. A few moments later Jane opened the door and came in, she picked up her things and Daria's, then left again, leaving a sobbing O'Neill leaning against the doorframe.

She found Daria in the Ladies room by the simple expedient of lying down and peering along the line of stalls. Daria's unmistakable boots were in the last stall, she walked up to it and rapped on the door. 'Hey, Daria's boots, have you seen Daria?'

'Jane I... Jane, listen to me, I know for sure now I can't take any more of that jerk and his new-age touchy feely crap. Now, I have a way out of that class but I... I don't wanna be on my own in the afternoons.'

Jane was secretly overjoyed 'Hey I get it. I could probably test out early but are you sure you can? I don't wanna be... ehmm... forgive me for saying this... but I think you might have self-esteem issues. The answers to the test are pretty basic but...'

'I do have issues, lots of issues... and I've worked them out and I'm continuing to work them out with the help of some extremely expensive and professional therapists. IN PRIVATE! I don't think I can... he pushes the wrong buttons, Jane. I just wanna kick him in the nuts.'

'If you could manage to hit a target that small they'll make you the place kicker for the Lawndale Lions. C'mon, let's get outta this dump, I promised Trent we'd meet him for pizza this evening, he wants to meet the girl who's been keeping me busy in the afternoons after she bewitched me with her Wacom Tablet. 'Sides, he'll bow down before anyone who owns a Strat and can play it.'

The bolt clicked and Daria came out. She said 'You got my jacket, thanks.'

'Wash your hands.'

'I didn't "do" anything.'

'Wash 'em anyway, you never know where they've been.'

'You better wash yours too, you were lying on the floor.'

'Good point.' They washed up and left. As they trudged down the corridor Jane asked 'Why the boots? Are you hoping Santa will bring you a Harley for Christmas? Don't get me wrong, I think they're cool and I wear boots myself, but those things must weigh a ton!'

'That's the point of them, they're physical therapy. I lost sixty percent of the muscle mass from my left leg. Walking in these is the best thing I can do to build them back up... and they're kinda cool.' She smiled. 'I'd like a motorcycle, but my Mom would go thermo-nuclear if I suggested such a thing.'

'Could be a way of getting her attention.'

'Jane, I'm only going to say this once. Please don't take offense but remember what I'm about to say. I. Do. Not. Want. My. Mom's. Attention. Or my Dad's.'

Jane was about to give a snarky answer to that but caught Daria's look and zipped it, quick.

Thirty minutes later the girls were in a booth in Pizza King. Jane had agreed to try and test out of self-esteem class and Daria had put a call through to her therapist who had agreed to call the school and make sure they did nothing further to interfere with her ongoing treatment.

Daria watched and sighed to herself as a group of girls in the latest teen fashions walked past her booth and sat in behind them. Jane raised a quizzical eyebrow but Daria shook her head and said nothing. After a while Jane said 'Better eat up, Trent and the boys'll be here any minute and they'll hoover up what's on your plate whether you're finished or not.'

'I thought we were eating with them.'

'Not if you want to keep any of your food.'

'I'm a handy girl with a fork, I can defend my corner.'

'You'd need to be an octopus, trust me on this... here they are.'

Daria turned as casually as she could and glanced toward the door. She wore her super cool persona like a cloak but she was really quite inexperienced and shy when it came to boys. 'Oh. My. God!' She thought to herself, then hated herself for it. The band members walked up to the table and Jane introduced Max, Nick, Jesse and, of course, Trent. 'Guys, this is Daria, treat her like the lady she is, in other words, better than you treat me!' Daria waved a lazy hand and said 'Hey.'

Jesse went off to get their order and Trent and Max sat in beside Daria, squashing her up into the corner. Daria was both appalled and secretly thrilled by the close contact with an attractive male, though she didn't show it. Trent asked her about her guitars and she was able to relax and enjoy the conversation, discussing wood characteristics and string grades with authority. She was less knowledgeable about amplifiers, being only experienced with the virtual ones on her Mac, but she held her own end of the conversation up well. After an hour she was one of the gang and the initial awkwardness was behind her. She was invited to Jane and Trent's house to listen to Mystik Spiral (don't laugh, don't laugh!) practice.

Outside the others all piled into a van but she held back for a moment. 'I'd better call my Mom and tell her I might be late.' They watched as she took out her phone and walked away a few steps. Her body language told them that whatever was being said wasn't particularly pleasant. After her initial few sentences she seemed to just say "yes", "no" or "whatever", then, even though it's impossible to violently hang up a call on an iPhone she managed it, stabbing the disconnect button savagely. She came over and climbed into the van, slamming the sliding door with enough force to break bones, if anyone had been dumb enough to leave an arm or leg sticking out. 'Let's go.' She snarled.

Max was about to whine about her mishandling of his precious "Tank" but thought better of it and drove off. Jane decided to risk a sally. 'I take it you have permission to come visit?'

'So long as I don't get drunk, drugged or laid... or more precisely, knocked up... she doesn't give a ****.'

'She said that?'

'Not in those words... but yeah.'

'Hey, Daria, that's pretty cool.' Trent laughed which turned into a cough.

She shot him a savage look, then relented and laughed herself.

Practice did not go well. Having an audience of one sister and one serious musician curbed their usual laid back, easy going, let's try it this way style of session and they made a serious effort to play well. This threw their shortcomings into sharp focus. They looked sheepishly at each other and each man thought to himself 'This sucks.'

Daria, though, wasn't too put off. There was a lot of originality in the material and some interesting chord processions. They needed (a lot) more practice but they had potential. During a break between songs she spoke up. 'Trent? Could I make a suggestion?'

'Sure Daria.'

Daria then suggested a rearrangement of chords and a slight change in tempo for the middle eight. Trent was mystified so Daria offered to show him and he handed over his precious ax. Daria asked Max to count them in from the start and they began the song. Daria played Trent's part, she had heard this song for the first time that evening, admittedly though several times, and none of it was written down, either as music or chords yet she had it, she was better than him, no question and the others synched in on her middle eight effortlessly. At the end Jane clapped, even without the vocals the song was undoubtedly better. Trent took it well, after all he had written the song and sitting back listening he knew it was pretty good. The other guys all smirked at him, thinking he'd been shown up but Daria then proceeded to do the same to each of them. Max had to be manhandled away from his drum kit by Nick and Jesse so Daria could demonstrate the fill she'd thought up. After an hour they played through the song again with Daria providing support using Trent's spare guitar and Jane was gobsmacked, it wasn't just the best she'd heard them play it was GOOD!

Later sitting around the Lane family dining table the band pleaded with Daria to join them. This she was reluctant to do as she really didn't want to get up on stage, ever. She did, however, agree to work with them on their songs and use her equipment to record them and master a cd.

Suddenly she realized it was after midnight and Trent offered to drive her home, she asked if Jane could come too, reasoning that if one of the 'rents was looking out it would be better if she was not alone in a car with a guy. She needn't have bothered, neither of her parents were home so she bid her friends goodnight and trudged up to bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**One Little Thing** Chapter 4

'Ms. Morgendorffer, were you not AWARE that this report was DUE today?'

Daria was chagrined, she had forgotten it, she shouldn't have left it til the last minute anyhow but to forget it entirely was a new low for her. She kept her head down to hide the tears in her eyes and said 'I'm sorry, I forgot.' In a tiny voice. Mister DeMartino took pity on her and said in a calmer tone 'See me after class.'

The rest of the lesson was a nightmare. She hadn't studied or prepared for this having spent the evening in a world of music and had felt like a whole new person and now she dreaded the inevitable moment when DeMartino turned his laser focus on her. It didn't happen. As the classroom cleared out Jane hung back but she waved her on. 'Hold me a place in the cafeteria, I'll see you in a few.'

DeMartino closed the classroom door and went back to sit on the edge of his desk, facing Daria. He considered her for a few moments then began 'I saw the transcripts from Highland and was expecting an outstanding student, instead you're gonna consider yourself lucky to pass this class. I would ask what happened but when I heard what Timothy O'Neill said about you in the staff room I asked to see your full record.' He paused for a few seconds, tapping his fingers on the desk. 'I myself am a veteran of the first Gulf War and as such I am no stranger to trauma related stress and the effect it can have on a person's psyche. I was dealing with grown men, trained soldiers, so I can only imagine what the accident involving the loss of your sister has done to you.' His usual ranting persona had been put away and his voice was soothing and kind.

'However, I cannot idly stand by and let an intellect such as yours go to waste. Now if there's something going on, if Ms. Lane is a bad influence...'

'NO!' Daria shouted, then said 'Sorry, but no, she's my friend, the best friend I could have... it's not her fault. Not at all. I just... I just … it's very hard... I mean, I find it very hard to write now... I used to love to write but now it's torture... I put it off and put it off...' She broke down into sobs. Anthony wasn't sure what to do when through her tears he heard her say '...I... I... killed... my... killed my sister...'

'Ms... Daria... listen to me, I've read the report, your sister was killed in an accident involving a jack knifed truck on a highway in torrential rain, how could that be your fault?... Daria... talk to me.'

'I... I killed her inna stoorry...' And she wept more bitter tears.

Janet Barch happened past at that moment. Looking through the half glass of the door she saw a man standing over a weeping girl and leapt to exactly the wrong conclusion. She snatched open the door and stormed in and was about to launch into a tirade when Anthony turned on her a look that would etch glass. It stopped her dead in her tracks. He said in a deceptively calm voice 'Ah Ms. Barch, perhaps you can assist me. This STUDENT has suffered a crisis of conscience, she WILL recover when she realIZES it's not her fault. It is a FACT that many of us get mad at loved ones, someTIMES we even wish them dead. HOWEVER, for most of us, that person we wish DEAD is often one of the PEOPLE we would miss the most in our lives. That is beCAUSE people we love can get under your SKIN the way a stranger can not. PLEASE accompany her to the ladies room where she can wash her FACE before lunch... MS. Morgendorffer, I expect that REPORT on my desk in the MORNING, is that understood?' Daria nodded and turned a grateful look back to Anthony as she left the room. Janet Barch was, for once, at a loss for words, there was plenty she could have said but she never wanted to receive THAT look from the ex-marine again. For a man he actually seemed to have done something right, Daria had calmed down and was looking thoughtful.

(Scene)

During lunch Daria decided to open up to Jane and explain some of what had been going on with her. They sat beside each other with their heads close together talking in quiet tones as Jane listened sympathetically to Daria's story and only occasionally made some comment, supporting her friend and reinforcing what DeMartino had said. She then recounted some of her own woeful tales of sibling rivalry, even with Trent who she unashamedly said she loved dearly but...

'Hey, get a room, dykes! We don't wanna see that around here.' The speaker was a tall, brown haired girl in a cheerleader's outfit. There was some laughter from nearby tables and one guy said 'I do, I'd love ta watch!.' A ginger haired creep said 'Grrrr, feisty! I could sell tickets ladies, for a small consideration of course, shall we say ten percent?'

Daria, who had been getting back to her usual self, broke down in tears again at this unwanted attention. Jane, feeling bad for her one true friend, lost her temper in an instant, snatched up her empty tray and whacked the offensive girl across the face with it, yelling 'Shut your ****in cake hole you ****in BITCH! We are not DYKES!' The other cheerleaders came over to help their comrade looking like they were about to beat up on Jane. She stood her ground defiantly, waiting for one of them to make a move. The red-haired boy, Charles, realized that he'd actually said something as a joke that caused someone real emotional pain and stood in the midst of it all saying 'I'm sorry... I didn't mean...'

'THAT'S ENOUGH OF THAT!' Roared Janet Barch, striding in between Jane and the cheerleaders. 'YOU LOT' She shouted at the cheerleaders 'SIT BACK DOWN.'

'But Ms. Barch she...'

'SIT!' She roared. 'You' she said to the cheerleader sitting on the floor in tears holding her face 'Get up, let me see that.' The girl stood and reluctantly moved her hands away. She had only been hit by the flat side of the tray so although it looked sore and red, the skin was not broken. 'Right, you, you and you.' She pointed at the girl, Jane and Daria. 'Ms. Li's office, now.'

Shortly thereafter the three were sitting in front of Ms. Li's desk, Jane in the center. Ms. Li came in from her conference with Janet and a quick review of the surveillance tape from the cafeteria. She sat at her desk and assumed her most inscrutable pose. 'Ms. Muenster' she began. 'You seem to be the instigator of this incident and you're a senior, perhaps you can explain to me in your own words what occurred just now?'

Angie Muenster looked everywhere but at Ms. Li, after a few moments while she tried to think up a plausible excuse, she cleared her throat and said 'Well you see Ms. Li I saw these two kissing and that's against God's law so I told them to stop but she hit me.' She looked hopefully at Ms. Li to see how this was going down.

Li's expression did not change. She gazed at Angie for a full minute before saying 'Well let us first clear up three facts. Firstly I have just reviewed the security tapes and although Ms. Lane and Ms. Morgendorffer were engaged in a close and obviously private conversation there was no public display of affection, up to and including, kissing. Secondly, even if they or any other students are involved in a same sex relationship, and there is nothing to indicate that this is the case, they are entitled to protection from abuse, prejudice or bullying in any form under the school contract of tolerance and behavior, to which you and every other student are signatories. Thirdly, I was not aware that the Reformed Jewish Temple you and your family belong to had changed their position on same sex couples. Perhaps you'd care to clarify your previous statement?'

Caught on all counts Angie tried but simply could not think of anything to say. 'I... I'm sorry?' She tried. Ms. Li had already turned her attention to Jane, leaving her to stew.

'Ms. Lane, perhaps you are not aware of school policy with regard to violence against other students?'

Jane looked her in the eye. 'I am aware Ms. Li, but I could not stand to have my friend be abused.'

'Have we not got complaint procedures, were there not teachers present?'

Jane looked as if she was about to argue, then hung her head and said 'I just lost it, I guess.'

'You realize this is a very serious issue, I could bring charges against you, you could be expelled, think about that for a moment, if you will.'

'Now Ms. Morgendorffer, I know you are an innocent party in this incident, do you wish to file a formal complaint against Ms. Muenster?' Daria, a picture of misery, shook her head.

Ms. Muenster, do you wish to file a formal complaint against Ms. Lane?' Angie was about to answer in the affirmative when she caught the look in Daria's eye. Her eyes widened and she shook her head also, no. 'Well that simplifies matters at least.' Ms. Li continued. 'It means it's up to me to decide what to do next. First I'm going to have to inform your parents. I'll begin with yours Ms. Morgendorffer, your Mother may wish to take you home for the day.'

'Ms. Li, I beg you, please don't call my Mom, she won't like it if you disturb her.' Daria looked stricken.

'Nonsense, it's my duty to inform parents if any of their offspring are guilty of or the victims of any sort of bullying at school. I have her number here.'

Daria shrank down in her seat and looked more forlorn and lost than Jane had yet seen her. She heard Ms. Li asking to be put through to Helen Morgendorffer and insisting that she speak to her in person and no, her secretary would not do. After a few moments a voice came on the line, obviously irritated and so loud everyone could hear her clearly. 'Who is this and what is so important I had to step out of a meeting with the partners to deal with?'

'Ms. Mogendorffer, this is Angela Li, Principal of Laaawndale Hiigh, we met some weeks ago when you enrolled your daughter. I'm afraid I must inform you of an incident of bullying involving your daughter and I...'

'Dammit! What did she do this time? More Shakespearean insults I suppose, did she hurt someone? Are they pressing charges? I told her next time it would be on her own head. Are the police involved yet?'

'Why no there's...'

'Are the victims pressing criminal charges, or a civil lawsuit?'

'No it's not...'

'Then why are you WASTING MY TIME!' The line went dead. Jane and Angie stared at Daria, curled up in a ball on the chair shaking with unheard sobs. She had her arms over her head as if to protect herself from a beating.

Angela Li was puzzled. She knew from the records that there wasn't a single disciplinary bad mark against Daria Morgendorffer, nothing to give a clue as to what led to THAT outburst. She resolved to call her old school and find out if there was something that hadn't been put in the file but she should know about, maybe the Middle school too. 'Ms. Morgendorffer... Daria.. I know things must be difficult at home since your sister's death. Perhaps I can speak to your Mother at a better time for her, have her call me at her convenience.' Putting that aside for the moment she addressed Jane Lane. 'Ms. Lane am I likely to get one of your parents if I call your house?'

Jane looked up from trying to console Daria and shrugged. 'Your guess is as good as mine... but my brother Trent has legal custody over me since he turned twenty one, you can call him, though you might have trouble waking him at this hour.'

Ms. Li looked startled for a moment, then remembered being informed of this at the start of the year. She looked up the number and called, letting it ring for a long time with no answer. She hung up and turned to Jane. 'I'm going to suspend you for two weeks. Have one of your parents or your brother call me first thing in the morning.'

Daria raised her head. 'You'd better suspend me too then... I don't think I could cope here on my own.'

'Ms. Morgendorffer! I can't do that, you've done nothing wrong! What would your parents say?'

Daria looked at her as if she'd gone mad. 'If you don't punish me, she will.' She said.

'Ms. Morgendorffer... I..'

Surprisingly it was Angie who spoke up 'Don't you get it Ms. Li, her Mom thinks she's the troublemaker. She's gonna get it in the neck just coz you called her. I thought my family was screwed up but this kid has me beat by a mile... Look Ms. Li... this is my fault... I didn't realize how bad... I don't blame Jane for losing it, if it was my friend... just cut the kid some slack, huh? I know better so just...' She shrugged and thought 'Jeeze, what did I step in? Dead sister! Nice one Angie, classy, very classy. Bitch much?'

Angela Li was stuck, there was no way she could hand out punishments without harming a girl who had already suffered so much. She looked at Angie Muenster, the girl seemed sincere. Jane Lane was obviously upset for her friend. There were not going to be any winners here today. 'Jane Lane and Angie Muenster, consider yourselves on probation. Leave my office now and go back to class but be warned, one more incident and it's straight out the door and I don't mean suspension, you will be expelled and that will go on your permanent record. Understood?' All three girls looked up at her in shock, then at each other, then by unspoken agreement they stood and said variations on 'Yes Ms. Li, thank you Ms. Li' and left the office.

Angela thought long and hard about the bottle of Glenfiddich in her bottom drawer, but she didn't touch it until she'd made four phone calls, first to Highland High, then Highland Middle School, then a ballet school in Highland she'd been adverted to by the Middle School Principal. Lastly she called a cell number for Daria's father, Jake Morgendorffer, and that did it for her self control, the man was roaring drunk at three o' clock in the afternoon and, when asked, made some insulting remarks about Daria and hung up.


	5. Chapter 5

**One Little Thing** Chapter 5

Mr. O'Neill was in full flow, rabbiting on about the break-in at the local cybercafe 'Suddenly, we're cut off. We can't hail our friends across the globe and say, "It's a beautiful day in the cyberhood." They didn't just take a few computers. They took the symbol of our virtual community. To visit .com was to come together with the planet!'

Daria couldn't let this go unchallenged 'Oh, come on.'

'Yes?'

Daria continued 'Come together with the planet? By staring at a screen for hours? Sitting in a room full of people you never say a word to?'

O'Neill looked thoughtful 'Hmm. Interesting point, Dorian.'

'Daria.'

'You believe that while connecting Lawndale citizens to our global neighbors, the cafe was alienating us from each other.'

'I'm saying if you really miss the place, put a Mr. Coffee in the computer lab.'

'So, in your opinion, what we really need is a return to the traditional coffee house of yore, where you'd watch some performers and share a cup with your friends, face to face.'

Jane smirked and muttered to Daria 'You're a visionary.'

O'Neill was still at it 'Right here and now, let's pledge to make Daria's dream a reality.'

Daria raised an eyebrow and said 'You mean the one where people walking down the street burst into flames?'

'The coffee house! We'll plan it, locate it, raise the money, and open it!'

'Would that qualify as an extracurricular activity?'

'Of course, Daria.'

'Then I'd like to register as a conscientious objector.' Daria deadpanned.

(Scene)

Later, as they were walking home to the Lane house, Jane asked 'So why did you volunteer to fundraise again? More importantly why did my name appear on the volunteer roster?'

'My Mom... In a rare attempt at parenting she insisted I take on an extra-curricular... for my college applications no less. I wouldn't mind but all colleges really care about is whether or not you can pay... and there's enough in my college fund from the insurance money to give me a free ride at any college in the country... though I'm thinking of applying to the Sorbonne in Paris.'

'Why Gay Paree, may I ask?'

'It's on another continent.'

'Gotcha. You still didn't answer my other question, why did I volunteer again?'

'You wouldn't let me walk the dread streets of Lawndale on my own, would you? Be honest, you'd come with me anyhow, this way you get credit.'

'I suppose I can sacrifice my principles this once, you'll owe me a pizza though.'

'Done.'

(Scene)

Post pizza, Jane was working on a new canvas in her room, Daria was lying on the bed with her Epiphone acoustic on her belly. She was playing a traditional Spanish guitar piece called "Romanza" but kept fluffing the fingering and was starting to get annoyed with herself. Jane was quietly amazed that so many notes could come from one person playing one guitar with a mere ten fingers. Daria eventually lost her temper and put the guitar aside, then lay on the bed with her head hanging off the end and her hair fanned out touching the floor. Jane hurriedly grabbed her sketchbook and began a drawing of Daria as an upside down "Vitruvian Man".

'Don't move Morgendorffer, this is a perfect depiction of teenaged angst in the twenty-first century.'

Daria turned her head and looked at Jane. 'I'm pissed off at myself, I used to be able to play that without a hitch, it was one of the first pieces I mastered when I started studying music in earnest.'

'When was that?'

'I was... eight, yeah, eight... I got one of those cheap guitars for my birthday and like the song goes I played it till my fingers bled. I drove everyone else nuts but I just wanted to learn. I was relegated to the garage to practice. When I played in the house Quinn used to put her boy band crap up to full volume and...'

'So you didn't take lessons or anything?'

'Not then. Some months later my Dad managed to drive his car over my guitar when he was backing in. I suspect someone moved it into his way... Anyhow my Aunt Amy heard about that and turns up that Christmas with this.' Daria patted the Epiphone. 'I fell in love with it at once, of course. Amy threw in an introductory course at a local music school. The rest is history.'

'You mentioned ballet...?'

'Hah! That was Grandma Barksdale, she paid for us to go so we could learn "Grace and Deportment" like a lady.' Daria said that last in a Southern Belle voice. 'It was OK... one of the few things I was better at than Quinn... I made the cut to be in the recital and she didn't so...' Daria suddenly stood up and shook herself, breaking the mood. 'My Mom hammed it up to get more out of the insurance, that's all, it's not important, I gotta go pee.'

Jane murmured 'Rightee ho' to herself as her friend left. Something always seemed to trigger a memory and set her off. At least things were going better for her at school. As they shook hands outside Li's office Jane had asked Angie to keep what she'd heard to herself which she seemed to have done, but also had spread the word that the new kid was cool and to leave her alone. She had caught up on her schoolwork and now surpassed Jane in her grades. Jane hadn't known until recently that Daria had been a straight A student until her accident. Jane smiled as she remembered a phrase her Gran used to use "She likes to hide her light under a bushel", Jane wondered where it came from but it seemed apt when thinking about Daria, the girl had depths.

(Scene)

Unfortunately for the girls the door-to-door fundraising didn't go well so they found themselves in a confrontation with O'Neill. He insisted they do something else to contribute and dropped the virtual nuke by threatening to call Daria's Mom. Jane offered to paint a mural and said Daria could be her assistant but O'Neill, like a dog with a bone who wouldn't stop gnawing away, thought it would be good for Daria to come out of her shell and perform something on opening night. He suggested first that she write something but she blanched white and looked sick at the thought, then he remembered that she had a music credit from her Highland transcripts and suggested perhaps she could play for them... in fact he insisted... perhaps her Mom could persuade her?

'Fine! I'll play.' Daria said, thoroughly annoyed, then with a cunning glance sideways to Jane said 'Would it be alright if I had someone else to accompany me? Other musicians?'

'Of course Daria' O'Neill enthused. 'A nice classical interlude would be perfect interspersed between the poetry readings.'

Daria smiled grimly 'Oh I have a classic or two in mind, don't you worry.' O'Neill smiled his sickly sweet smile and walked away a happy man.

Daria turned to Jane 'Do you think the guys in the band will help me out? It'll mean playing covers and I know how they feel about original stuff.'

'Daria, the guys in the band would... how did that Brit put it in that movie...? Oh yeah, the guys in the band would eat chips outta your knickers! Besides they do play covers when they need the money so, no problemo. You sure you wanna do this, get up on stage I mean?'

'No... But it's just a small stage in front of a handful of high-schoolers for one night so I think I can manage it. I really just wanna rub O'Neill's smarmy nose in it.'

Jane felt a smile growing as she thought about this 'They won't know what hit them!'

To Daria she said 'What are you gonna wear? If you're gonna perform you should have something... appropriate.'

'What have you in mind?'

'I honestly don't know... I think we should consult some experts...'

(Scene)

Danny Moreno was in love, no question. He was fourteen years old and he had found the love of his life. She was a quiet spoken girl with glasses and two years older than him but he worshiped the air she breathed, the ground she walked on, the street where she lived... she was a Goddess.

He had been hanging around with his brother's band off and on since he was ten, never particularly impressed by them or their music but he had always been interested in the technical side, the amps, the wiring, the speakers, besides which he was a handy guy with a soldering iron and was keen to master the intricacies of the sound board. Then one day **she** had turned up and the world became a bright and happy place. Now, finally! Oh joy! Oh joy! She was going to perform with the band on a stage and he was going to be able to show his buddies what he'd been raving about these past few weeks. There was only going to be one chance at this and it had to be good... no it had to be great so everything needed an upgrade.

He treated the band to a pizza to get them to sit and listen to his ideas. They needed wireless pick ups on all the instruments and a new digital board as well as wireless neck mikes for Daria and Trent. Then there was this guy he knew from the Hack Shack who wanted to be a DJ and was a wiz at lighting, he'd work for free if they could pay for the equipment. The guys all shook their heads at that point but Daria (Sweet Angel) said 'How much do you need?'

Danny had done his research. 'Two thousand, four hundred dollars plus some change. Some of the gear is good second hand, the rest is new.'

Daria shrugged and said 'OK, d'you need cash or can I use my bank card?' and that was that.

(Scene)

'Why should we talk to like, losers, who dress like it's nineteen seventy eight or something?' Sandi Griffin, President of Lawndale High Fashion Club, sneered at Daria and Jane as she took her seat in Pizza King.

'I was going for nineteen seventy seven, thank you!' Daria beamed in reply. Then she turned to Jane and said 'Are you sure about this? I don't think they know enough about clothes to be up to the challenge, this needs to be perfect after all.'

Pigtailed Stacy Rowe said 'Please go away and stop bothering us, we have important club business to discuss, the Winter fashion predictions just came out, right Sandi?'

Sandi Griffin though had a slight gleam in her eye and was that the quirk of a smile at the corner of her mouth? She said 'Gee Stacy, let us not be too hasty. It is, after all, in the Fashion Club rules that we should help those who are sartorially challenged.' She was secretly proud of this remark, she had read the expression in a magazine and had to look it up so it felt good to toss it casually into her conversation. 'Let's see what the geeks have in mind.'

Daria and Jane smirked at each other 'Steeerike!' To Sandi Daria began 'Now, I'm going to appear on stage so I need...'

It was one week to opening night.


	6. Chapter 6

**One Little Thing** Chapter 6

'Are you sure about this? I look like a refugee from Riverdance!' Daria moaned while looking at her newly curled hair in the mirror.

'Positive, it'll stand out more when you're on stage and it gives us something to attach these to.' Stacy Rowe said as she weaved rhinestones into the older girls now huge hairdo. Admittedly it was a bit eighties (more than a bit) but that was the effect they were after, this was, to a certain extent at least, a theatrical production. One did not wear street make-up on stage. Stacy worried that Sandi actually did know about her evenings spent at the amateur dramatics society (of course she did) but Stacy reveled in her role as seamstress, hairdresser and make-up artist. She was, after all, very good at it.

At that moment Sandi came into the dressing room (The Ladies Room: Out of Order, please visit the restaurant next door) accompanied by Tiffany, both dressed in a fashion teen's interpretation of "Rock Chick". They looked pretty damned hot, as it happened, any girl with hips would look good in skin-tight jeans but they knew how to work it. Sandi inspected Daria's hair. 'Hmm, I suppose it will have to, like, do or something.' To Daria she asked 'Are the clothes ok? If the fit is not perfect we can fix it now, you don't want any Janet Jackson moments when you're on stage... at least I hope you don't.'

'Definitely not, thanks.' Daria replied drily. 'This skirt is a bit weird, it's so short, why is it so heavy?'

'That would be the ball bearings sewn into the hem, it's to make it swing when you dance.'

'Huh?'

'Take off your robe, I'll show you.'

Daria stood and reluctantly removed her robe. The outfit she wore was, she had to admit, sexy, racy, raunchy, skimpy, whorish, dangerous, slutty and way cool. She felt like a total fraud. Stacy had explained it to her earlier 'When you're on stage you become someone else, not you, so you can flirt and act dirty and blow kisses at strangers because it isn't really you!' That meant those were someone else's boobs peeking out of the parody of a school blazer which appeared to be the only thing she wore on top. The underwired bra was cunningly concealed in the lining of the blazer and a transparent strip of celluloid fastened it in front. The blazer itself was two sizes too small and could never be closed so it looked as if she was perpetually about to flash her boobs, it was a pretty neat deception, she was forced to admit. The copy of the improvised crest from Jack Black's "School of Rock" on the left breast was a nice touch. The pleated skirt was short and black and lined with silk and three layers thick. It hugged her hips then flared out, she knew there was wire in there somewhere creating the effect. The flesh colored tights were necessary to cover her scars, Jane had found a pair in an alternative boutique in Dega Street that made it look as if she had snakes tattooed on your thighs. A tattoo might be a good way to deal with those scars permanently, Daria thought to herself, but I'll probably have to wait 'til I'm eighteen. The boots were like her own but much more lightweight and with a two inch heel.

Sandi stood beside her and said 'Watch in the mirror, now do this.' She cocked her ass out to the left and held the pose, a bit like Elvis Presley. Daria copied the move and was amazed how the skirt swung out pendulum fashion, accentuating the movement of her hips. She tried a few bump and grind moves, oh boy, this was good. She caught Sandi's eye in the mirror and grinned. Sandi winked and said in her usual haughty tone 'Try not to let us down, the honor of the Fashion Club is at stake.'

Stacy got flustered. 'But Sandi, I thought we were forbidden to let anyone know we were involved in this Loserfest!'

Sandi still held Daria's eye but kept a straight face as she said 'We'll know, Stacy, we'll know. I think our work here is done, break a leg or whatever, come Tiffany, Stacy needs to finish the make-up on our star performer.' They left and Daria put her robe back on and a towel around her shoulders and sat in the chair. Stacy put on a professional looking make-up artist belt laden with cosmetics and set to work. From outside came the sound of some asshole torturing a guitar as well as his audience then he finished off by smashing his guitar and hurting his hand, the roar he gave then was the most musical thing he'd done so far.

Stacy was applying eye shadow when she said to Daria 'Can you manage without your glasses? They're cute and all but your face is so pretty...'

'I could just about avoid walking into walls without them, I wouldn't feel safe without them, to be honest.'

'Could we try something?' Daria shrugged. Stacy picked up the little round John Lennon glasses and put them on Daria's face, then she slid them down her nose a little. 'Now look at me over the top of them.' Daria did so. For the first time Stacy actually looked deep into Daria's eyes, there was so much warmth in those soft brown orbs, so much pain, so much potential for joy. She suddenly realized she was holding her breath and she let it out in a rush. 'Ah...ehm... they look great like that and you can see where you're going and flash the headlamps at the crowd at the same time.' She gestured into the mirror 'I know you can't see it but it's very effective.'

Daria looked doubtful but she took her glasses off and adjusted the metal earpieces so they sat comfortably in their new position and wouldn't fall off. Stacy went back to work. 'Won't be long now.' She said. Daria nodded and started to do some sort of yogic deep breathing exercises to prepare herself for the coming ordeal.

Someone knocked the special knock at the door, Stacy went over 'Who is it?'

'It's Danny, I have Daria's headset.' Stacy opened the door and let him in just as Daria stood up and turned to face him, slipping off her robe as she did so. Danny stopped dead, then slowly turned chalky white as all the blood left his head and went somewhere else, he opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish but no sound came out until he finally managed 'Aarggllfaargl?'

Daria walked slowly up to Danny, slightly exaggerating the swish of her hips as she did so, she took the headset from his unresisting hand and slid it around her neck, putting in the earpiece and setting the mike just below her chin. She smiled at him then and said 'Thanks.' then she glanced down and raised an eyebrow at him and said 'My, my, that must be a handy place to hang your hat!'

Danny looked down and with a strangled cry grabbed his crotch and bent over then he hobbled/ran from the room. Daria and Stacy looked at each other for a second and then both said 'OH MY GOD!' and collapsed in laughter.

'Amiga!, Amiga! Can you hear me?' Jane's voice sounded in her ear.

Daria tapped the "on" switch with her tongue to test it and the little red led came on. 'Hearing you loud and clear. Snrk, Heh, heh. heh, heh, hrkn!' She snorted, unable to stop laughing.

'What's so funny?'

'Tell ya later, 'm I coming through ok?'

'Loud and clear.'

'What's going on out there?'

'Well the natives are getting restless, Kevin and Brittany just tried to do the balcony scene from "Romeo and Juliet" but Kevin didn't bother to learn his lines and was standing there in his football gear carrying a skull for some reason and when she said "Wherefore art thou, Romeo?" he says "Hey, I'm right here Babe!" then she climbs down off her stepladder and clocks him one right in the kisser. Everyone thought this was an alternative comedy sketch and cheered like mad. They've done three encores and she smacks him every time... guess you really can't cure stupid. Anyway Andrea's up next, gonna read something dire, dark and dreary I've no doubt, then it's you, you all set?'

'As I'll ever be. Where's O'Neill?'

'Jodie's keeping him in the office going over the figures... or sitting on his face... whatever she has to do to keep him out of our hair.'

'Ewww, Jane! Jodie would never do anything like that, what about the power board? Is our new friend in place and ready to take a bullet to defend it? I wouldn't put it past O'Neill to pull the plug on the whole place and to hell with health and safety regs.'

'Yep, and trust me, armed terrorists wouldn't get past him. Two minutes, OK?'

'OK. Is there... much of a crowd?' Daria took a long swig from her water bottle and waited for a reply.

Jane, from her seat in the sound booth, looked out over the sea of heads crowding the floor where all the tables and chairs had been cleared to make room and said 'Oh, there's a good handful, mostly kids from school and some of Danny's middle schoolers and some Spiral heads from the Zon to support the guys, you know, the usual.'

'Oh, ok... I... hope this goes ok... I don't wanna fall off the stage again and make a fool of myself...'

'Don't worry Amiga, two things, this stage is less than a foot off the floor and secondly nobody paid anybody to give you a push, just imagine in your head that you're Angus Young at Donnington and you're gonna slay 'em... you are, you know, trust me. One minute'

Daria took a deep breath, smiled at Stacy and muttered 'Thanks, for everything.' Stacy smiled encouragement back. Daria opened the door, one of the band's friends acting as a roadie for the night handed her Strat' to her and she slung it over her shoulder and headed for the stage...

Showtime!


	7. Chapter 7

**One Little Thing** Chapter 7

Charles Ruttheimer the Third was not the man he wanted to be. He was honest enough with himself to admit that much. He wanted to be a ladykiller (not in the serial killer sense), a lothario, the man who was hiding in the closet when husbands came home, the suave, sophisticated, man about town who snapped his fingers and girls' panties fell down all by themselves. No, instead he was a sleazeball, a creep, a voyeur (not because he particularly liked to watch just that it was as close as he ever got), he had one thing in common with Kevin Thompson, the quarterback, they both habitually wore a cup. Kevin, because it was part of the football uniform he felt naked without, and Charles... well let's just say at least once a day it got used for the purpose it was intended i.e. keeping him in the gene pool. Sometimes, when Janet Barch was in a bad mood, several times a day.

Things had been looking up for Charles lately (He absolutely hated to be called anything else, especially Upchuck... one day that Griffin bitch would feel his displeasure, hur, hur, hur). First of all the new girl, Daria, and Jane Lane (those legs!) had albeit reluctantly accepted his quite genuine apology for his off-color remarks during the Angie-incident. (aka Sleeks versus Geeks, The Battle of the Cafeteria, Babes in Jello, The Accidental Death of a Cheerleader, Barch's Last Stand, The Little Dutch Girl, The Noodle Incident, Art Attack and Charles' personal favorite – Girls Gone Wild). Then a young acquaintance of his from the Hack Shack Nerd Herders, Danny Moreno, had offered him a possible gig as lighting engineer for a one off concert featuring the delightful, delectable and diminutive Ms. Morgendorffer. He had jumped at the chance, of course, and was doubly grateful when he got an invitation to the Casa Lane basement to watch rehearsals and plan his light show.

He had instantly fallen under Daria's spell, and now would happily crawl over broken glass naked to please her. He was fully behind Danny's plan for an upgrade to the equipment and had a few ideas himself for turning what was going to be a memorable evening into an historic EVENT!

He decided to spend some of his own money to further his ambitions. He first of all purchased some used 50" lcd screens the Hack Shack had acquired at a sale of the assets of defunct companies and donated them along with the tiny1080p HD cameras that had gotten him expelled from Fielding Prep (was it installing the cameras or getting caught installing the cameras? We'll never know) to go with every motorized spotlight he installed in the new student cafe. The feed from each camera could be routed to any or all of the screens which were mounted high on the walls. They tracked with the spotlights and he could control the zoom from his laptop. For this special night he had it set up to record the feed from all twenty cameras and duplicate it online to a backup server. He set up a few automatic routines to switch the feed around to different screens as part of the light show, though he had done it himself he knew it was pretty impressive. Tonight was the night.

Spending time with the members of the band had been pretty cool, he realized his usual attire of dress shirt and pants and partly permed hair made him look like a total tool, so now he habitually wore a t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, and for today had had his hair cut in a kind of buzzcut that made the top of his head look flat and he sported a leather jacket and a pair of RayBans. He had tried on a pair of biker boots but they made him look like a consumptive Terminator so he went with Doc Martens instead. Already he had noticed some girls who didn't know him checking him out, it was a good feeling. The cafe was packed, this was largely because Danny had gotten in touch with every rocker in Lawndale and told them there was an AC/DC tribute band gonna play and they'd better be there. (almost true) This had of course been picked up on the social networking sites and the leather and denim brigade had come from far and wide to see this performance, there were even a couple of mutant looking weirdos from Texas!

Charles had almost been sidetracked when he went to the Gents to find a line of girls waiting to use the one and only cubicle in there. He was not the only male to suffer performance anxiety and quietly slip out the back door to go behind the dumpster. Someone told him that a couple of girls had gotten tired waiting in line and had used a urinal. He was bummed out that he'd missed that (He needn't have been, the pictures were already on FaceBook) and was sorely tempted to hang around the Gents in case it happened again, but he had a job to do tonight, if this was half as good as he hoped it would be viral by tomorrow and he could be working for MTV as a videographer by next Thursday.

He went through his checklist to make sure everything was set, trying not to be too distracted by the proximity of Jane Lane, who sat beside him at the sound desk joking with Daria over the wireless headset. Andrea was on stage (and on something illegal too, by the look of her, and what was she whining on about?). Danny came in behind him (was he limping?) and sat in the sound engineers chair beside Jane. He slid the chair forward so he was tight up against the desk but must have banged his knee or something because he cried out in pain and doubled over the desk. Jane took his hand and rubbed his back and asked was he ok but somehow this seemed to make it worse for the boy. Jane snapped at him 'They're ready, c'mon, get up, it's time Danny, do your job. Ready Chuck?' (ok it was better when she left out the "Up"). He nodded to her and brought down the house lights to a minimum. The room went quiet in antici


	8. Chapter 8

**One Little Thing** Chapter 8

pation...

Chuck cued the intro music he'd selected, the opening sequence from Rick Wakeman's Journey to the Center of the Earth. It was suitably bombastic and over the top to set the mood. He faded it out as the choir reached a crescendo and brought up the spotlight on Max's right hand tapping a beat on the hi-hat. From the darkness an intricate and idiosyncratic guitar riff began and repeated it's rhythm as Chuck brought up the light directly behind Daria. The crowd saw only a silhouette of an obviously female figure, skirt swinging as the right leg beat time, head dipping with every second beat. A horizontal beam of light appeared, illuminating her fingers dancing over the strings. The male voices of the band came in gradually 'Ahh ahhh ahh AHH AHH AHH ahh ahh AHH ahh' then Daria and the boys together roared 'THUN DER' accompanied by a double full flash of all the lights and a double beat on the bass drum. Daria continued to play the lead riff as Trent and Jesse on second lead and rhythm guitars and Nick on bass guitar introduced the counterpoint melody. The full lights were up by the time Daria launched into the tortured main lyrics. It had only been moments since the song began but the crowd were already into it, bouncing along to the beat and at least half of them singing along to the incomprehensible lyrics. It was happening, it was on. Daria's fingers played on their own and the words poured through her from some other source and she floated above it all, riding the wave, feeding on the adulation, she didn't dance, the dance moved her. When the song ended the band launched straight into Alice Coopers School's Out which really went down well with the middle schoolers, every one of them experts at Guitar Hero and every one of them thinking they outta trade it in and buy a guitar!

(Scene)

When that ended the crowd were roaring, the band paused to take a breath and a swallow of water. Timothy O'Neill finally broke free of Jodie and Mack who were telling him not to interfere, everyone was having a good time but he was determined. He had not authorized this! It was supposed to be classical music, not this noise! He knew he'd never make himself heard over this crowd (Where did all these kids come from?) so he determined to cut them off from the power... they needed power to run those awful amplifiers, well he'd see about that. He pushed his way through the throng (Why were girls queuing outside the Men's room?) and made his way to the utility closet at the back. He opened the door (Why was the light already on?) and spotted a burly man standing in front of the fuse board. 'Excuse me' he said, 'I need to pull the main fuse and put a stop to this... this anarchy!'

'Ah hello, Mr. O'Neill, I presume?'

'Yes... who are you? What are you doing here? Get out of my way!'

'Well, in the proper order, I'm Steve, I'm here to make sure nobody touches this equipment, and no.'

'Get out of my way, you don't work here!'

'Technically correct, but I have been employed, on an ad hoc basis you might say, to stop anyone interfering with this concert.'

O'Neill lost his temper at that point as the music started back up outside and attempted to push past the man and grab the main breaker. Steve had a number of options open to him, years of training and experience but he settled on a simple and direct approach he'd learned at his most recent gig and nutted O'Neill between the eyes, dispatching him for a one-way, all expenses paid, vacation in dreamland. Steve took a moment to recover himself, then reflected philosophically that, like many things in life, it hurt a bit at first but was ultimately very satisfying. He politely moved the recumbent O'Neill into the recovery position and resumed his vigil in front of the board. He listened to the music for a while, it was a bit old-school for his taste but that little girl could certainly play, even the concrete floor was rockin to the beat. Steve smiled.

(Scene)

Daria smiled at the crowd, her crowd. She took off the ridiculous school cap that Stacy had perched on her head just before she came on stage and frisbeed it into the throng. She put out her hand and a battered black top hat flew out of the wings, which she caught and placed on her head at a jaunty angle. She smiled an evil smile and roared 'Hello Lawndaaaale!' The crowd went bananas! 'This next song has some personal meaning for me, so bear with me if I shed a tear... this one's for Quinn.' Then she began Slash's ubiquitous intro to "Sweet Child O' Mine" . Trent had strapped on his acoustic with the new digital pick up and chimed in with the harmony. Daria sang 'She's got a smile it seems to me

Reminds me of childhood memories

Where everything

Was as fresh as the bright blue sky

Now and then when I see her face

She takes me away to that special place

And if I'd stare too long

I'd probably break down and cry...

By the time they got to the part where Trent sang 'Where do we go, where do we go now'

Daria's tears had tracked mascara down her face but she never fluffed a note, she sang 'Where do we go?' as a wail from the heart and the crowd wept with her.

After this emotionally draining performance Daria left the stage and Trent stepped up and led Mystik Spiral in one of their Daria-revamped standards which went down extremely well with the mixed crowd of kids and Zon regulars, Trent had a new confidence in his songs and it showed. The whole band was note perfect throughout, having a hard task-mistress had sure helped.

Daria stepped back on the stage to screams of acclaim. She was smiling again, make-up perfect.

This time she broke her Texas accent out of cold storage and gave them an extremely raunchy version of ZZ Top's "Tush". Then she and Trent duetted on a cover of "Proud Mary" that was equal parts Tina Turner and Credence Clearwater Revival.

Then they did a medley of seventies rock classics beginning with Ram Jam's "Black Betty", segueing into a jokey version of "Radar Love" and finishing off with Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Freebird", skipping the wanky, overblown first five minutes and just playing the awesome four minute guitar virtuoso instrumental at the end.

Trent then came forward to sing the all new revised version of "Icebox Woman", directing the angsty lyrics at Daria, who stood immobile wearing an ice-queen expression that could freeze lightning and melt rocks at the **same time! **all the while improvising a mocking counterpoint on her Fender.

And then it was over, the band left the stage but the crowd demanded, screamed, begged for just one more. Daria took the floor and called for quiet 'Ok, Ok, we have one more we can do for you tonight...' Roars from the crowd. 'Then I haveta go home coz it's my bedtime.' She affected a little girl pose as she said this. Roars and laughter 'Before we go, lemme thank Mystik Spiral, let's hear it for Trent... Jesse... Nick.. and Max bangin the drums and beatin the beat... I wanna thank Danny on sound and Charlie Rootenheimer for the light show, wasn't it great?' Roars throughout. 'So now I'm gonna sing another man's song... about a lady... a laaarrge lady, all the way from Tasmaniaaa... Max?'

Tsh tsh tsh tsh de den de den de di dun, and Danny Moreno roared 'Dar yah!'

de den de den de di dun and the AC/DC fans roared 'Dar yah!'

de den de den de di dun and the whole crowd roared 'Dar yah!'

tsh tsh tsh tsh

'Wanna tell you a story' ….'bout a woman I know'

...

A whole lotta woman...

I gotta whole lotta Rosie...'

Near the end of the song Daria was on her knees with her eyes closed, shredding her ax as she played chords penned by her idol, Angus Young. Charles zoomed one of his cameras in to catch the almost inhuman expression of agony and ecstasy combined on her beautiful face. This was the shot that was picked up by the news networks next day from this phenomenal new viral video on Youtube, this shot of a talented young woman playing her heart out in a medium dominated by men. They even got lip reading experts to work out the words she mouthed just before she leapt into the air to hit the last, drawn out, power chord that finished the concert, she had said 'I forgive you, Quinn... I forgive you for dying and leaving me alone...'

THE END

(Credits Roll)

Tip of the hat and mucho thanks to the man, the myth, the legend that is CharlesRB for the very special guest cameo appearance by the one and only Steve.

"Sweet Child O' Mine" Lyrics by Guns n' Roses.

"Thunderstruck" and "Whole lotta Rosie" by AC/DC

Used without permission but with affection.


	9. Part 2 Chapter 1

I was thinking about this story and a little booze muse told me there might be some more I could do with it. This picks up about four weeks after the chapter that ended with the concert at Cafe Disaffecto. The fan fiction "Girls Together Sarcastically" by Dennis was a major inspiration for this story. Thanks to all who read and commented on the first section. I am aware that in many respects the Daria in this story has differed greatly from the original canon version but the point is that "One Little Thing", or in this case a very big thing which is the death of her sister has altered Daria's responses to the world in general. Canon Daria did play the flute, but had given it up pre-series and she did fall during a dance recital so it's not inconceivable that she would turn her energies to music, especially if a traumatic experience turned her against her normal outlet of writing. Please read on...

_**One More Little Thing **_

'But Helen! You've been working so hard these last few weeks why don't you take the opportunity to go home and spend the rest of the weekend with your family. Have some fun.'

Helen did her best to smile at Eric Schrecter, her immediate boss and, she suspected, the one thing that was keeping her from making partner in the law firm. 'I'm sorry Eric but there's just so much to do... even if Evans have dropped their suit we still have to prepare the depositions for Monday morning...'

'Look Helen, let me be blunt. We both had to be here for Evans, that's gone now. We both have to be here for those depositions but I don't want to be, I have time for eighteen holes then dinner and then my girlfriend wants to check out this great new rock band she keeps raving about at McGrundy's tonight. Monday morning is soon enough. I'll see you then.'

Helen ground her teeth as Eric walked out of her office and the building. She knew his "Girlfriend" was just that, a nineteen year old blonde cheerleader type who'd just finished High School without a diploma, well she was well on her way to the oldest profession, the little slut.

Helen checked her watch, 12:15. She hadn't been home at this time on a Saturday since they'd moved north. Jake would be on the golf course... or at least at the golf club... with one of his drinking buddies. It surprised her how successful his business was considering his client base was comprised almost exclusively of alcoholics. Jake fit right in and was everybody's best buddy, Lord knew he didn't do any actual work but he could be relied upon for a business lunch or an afternoon meeting... or even a working breakfast... so long as it was somewhere that served liquor and looked legitimate on an expense account.

His monthly retainers looked better than her own... even if it was only a matter of time until it killed him... at least they'd taken away his license, he should never drive again... never, never, NEVER!  
OK, he'd been stone cold sober that day but if he'd only let her drive... her instincts... her mother's intuition would have saved her little girl... she KNEW IT!

Reluctantly she closed her laptop, packed up her briefcase and waved to the security guard on her way out. She opened the door of her SUV and was hit by the oven-like heat so she reached in and started the engine and closed the door to let the AC take the edge off. She went back into the lobby and wondered for the millionth time if she should start smoking again. A few minutes later she went out and drove home.

The day got worse when she found her driveway was blocked by some heap of junk van and a truck from _KSBC WE Will Rock YOU!_a local radio affiliate she knew Daria liked. What the hell were they doing in her driveway? Helen parked by the kerb a couple of houses down and walked to her front door. Not surprisingly loud rock music (DAMN NOISE!) was coming from an upstairs window. Helen was wondering when the lawsuits would start coming in from the neighbors if this is what Daria did in the afternoons, at least she kept it quiet at nighttime.

Helen left her briefcase on the desk by the door and went straight toward the kitchen, thinking she had better get some coffee and a Tylenol before the inevitable row with her eldest... no... her only daughter now. Her shoulders slumped a bit as she entered the kitchen. She was surprised to find two strangers already there, leaning against the island unit while they chatted. The woman was tall... actually she was tall AND wearing four inch heels AND had her black hair puffed up like that singer who died, what was her name?... Winehouse? The woman was dressed in a sheer black leather minidress and fishnet stockings with several rips in them. She was speaking quite affably to a bald man in faded denim sleeveless jacket and jeans, his t-shirt looked brand new and was adorned with a psychedelic spiral design that positively insulted Helen's aesthetic eye. They both glanced at Helen and said 'Hey' then went back to talking. The woman was saying 'Look Max, the Harpies is finished as a band, Mel won't speak to me and Bibi went and got herself pregnant, we need this gig.'

'I get it, Monique, but it's not upta me, ya gotta talk to Trent and D, she's our producer AND our manager now.'

'Yeah, she kinda scares me, ya know? Look, I just need ta know you have no objection.'

'Nah, a keyboard and sax would expand the stuff we can do. I know Trent and Jess are all into the original stuff but the kids eat up the covers and with D out front lookin like that and playin like that... we made more money in the last four weeks than in the year before, d'ya know that?'

'I can believe it, she's great, she's the biggest thing to hit Lawndale... hell what am I sayin... Maryland... DC... the friggin East Coast fer krissakes. The Spiral are great since she took over, no offense Max but you guys were never gonna amount to anything more than a grungy garage band.'

Max shrugged. Helen was standing in her own kitchen wondering what in all that was holy was going ON? Who were these people and why were they in her house? She actually believed she might be getting an LSD flashback when the downstairs bathroom door clicked open and three very pretty girls trooped out, all in the latest teen fashions and with their makeup perfect. She felt her heart wrench as she half expected Quinn to follow them but of course she didn't.

The girls came over to her and the first one said 'Mrs. Morgendorffer? I'm Sandi Griffin, I believe you know my mother Linda from the Lawndale Business Women's Alliance? These are my friends and colleagues from the Lawndale High Fashion Club, this is Stacy Rowe and this is Tiffany Blum Deckler.' 'Hello!' 'Hiiii Missssuusss Morrrgennndooorrffferrr'

Taken aback Helen said 'How d'you do.' and shook the offered hands, wondering when things were going to start making sense again and was that girl high or brain damaged?

Sandi continued 'My Mom is upstairs getting everything ready for the live broadcast, the show starts at two.' The other girl, Stacy was it? Started bouncing on the spot saying 'It's sooo exciting, I know it's only radio but they have a photographer and it's going out live on their webcast so I got to do the makeup and clothes and she looks great and it's SO EXCITING!'

'Staaaacy! Take, like, a chill pill, or something, such behavior is not becoming of a member of the fashion club.'

Grasping at a straw in the wind Helen said 'Perhaps I'd better have a word with your mother, Sandi.'

'Certainly Mrs. Morgendorffer, Stacy, if you've calmed down enough please ask my Mom to join us, Tiffany! Refreshments if you please.'

'Yesss Sandiiii.'

Judging by the creaking of the floorboards and the murmur of several conversations their was quite a large group of people upstairs and Helen still didn't know why, what goddam broadcast? She recognized the familiar figure of Linda Griffin descending the stairs and remembered she didn't like her very much... she was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. She noticed that both Linda and Sandi for opposite reasons had each made an effort to look like the other. She greeted Linda as cordially as she could manage and asked her to join her in her home office.

Once the door was closed Helen opened a drawer, paused for a moment, then took out a bottle of the really good stuff and two tumbler glasses. Linda raised an eyebrow but didn't refuse. Helen poured a generous measure into each glass and passed one over. Linda raised her glass and savored the aroma of vintage single malt then said 'Here's to our success' and took a sip.

Helen took a sip of her own and sat, indicating the other chair to her guest. After a short pause she said 'Look Linda, I know we haven't seen eye to eye on a couple of issues at committee meetings but please let's put that aside for now. I need your help with something important right now, will you help me?'

Linda looked amused, then intrigued, this was the first sign of weakness she'd ever seen in the hardboiled lawyer. 'If I can, sure.'

'Linda... what the hell is going on in my house?'

The sound engineer from KSBC ripped the headphones off and massaged his ears as everyone on the upper floor stopped speaking when through the floor they heard someone roar 'DARIA!'

'Uh, oh.'


	10. Part 2 Chapter 2

**_More P2_**

The day after the concert at the student cafe had been a surreal experience for Daria Morgendorffer, Teenager, High School Student, Stoic, Philosopher, Cynic... and oh yeah... Musician. One thing she had never been in all her young life was popular, sure she wasn't an absolute untouchable, no matter what her late sister had said on numerous occasions but she'd been pretty comfortable being an anonymous bystander in everyone else's life. Overnight the world had changed and it was a strange and curiously exciting place.

She had accepted a lift home from Trent and Jane the night before, still riding high on the adrenalin rush the crowd had given her. The crowd, the audience, the paying public, the punters, the bums on the seats as the Brits would say. They'd all, or at least most of them, had paid a dollar to get in to see **her** play and there'd been HUNDREDS, there was apparently a queue outside that never got in but the music was plenty loud so they had been boppin around on the pavement causing such a ruckus the cops had been called, though there was no actual trouble or arrests. HUNDREDS!

So she'd gone home to bed and put it behind her, it was over. The next morning Jane had come by to walk her to school as usual, just a regular Thursday morning, HA!

Sandi Griffin and the Fashion Club caught up to them in her white convertible before they'd gotten half way. She said 'Daria! You'd better, like, come with us, there's reporters outside the school, you need to look good on camera when they, like, ask you questions and stuff.'

Daria just froze. Eventually she managed 'What? Why? I didn't do anything wrong, is Mr. O'Neill charging me with...'

'No silly, you're a hit! You're like a rock star now or something.'

'How could that possibly be? It was only last night! There was just students...' She was trembling now. Jane grabbed her and said 'Easy now, don't panic, it'll be OK, it's probably just a slow news day or something.'

Daria sat on the kerb and tried to get her breathing under control. Stacy Rowe hopped out of the car and proceeded to make-up Daria's face. Weirdly this seemed to calm her. She could play this part once the mask was on, the real her could hide and be safe.

Sandi was explaining 'Charles... I... er... I mean Upchuck edited the video and put it up on Youtube, it's a phenomenon, over a million hits like, so far, you're really popular in Japan for some reason. Apparently Mr. O'Neill had arranged for a friend of his, a reporter from the Lawndale Sun Herald, to be there last night to promote the new student cafe, he really liked you, your picture's in the paper on the local news page.'

'Oh God! No! My Mom is gonna go nuclear, this place will make Chernobyl look like a holiday resort when she's finished with it. Why did I agree to go on a goddam stage again!'

'Easy Dee, it's OK! You've done nothing wrong, you said so yourself, the kids liked your music, now you can't blame them for that, can you? Just wave to the cameras and say "Thankyouverramuccchhh" Daria has entered the building, ah haw haw.'

'Yes thank you Mizz Lane, when we need Elvis impersonators we won't call you.' Daria said sourly, then she said 'OK, let's get this over with... and Sandi... Thanks!'

'Whateverrr, don't, like, mention it.' But she grinned while she said it. It didn't escape Daria's notice that the three fashionistas were wearing variations on her usual outfit of jeans and leather jacket. She raised a quizzical eyebrow at Sandi who shrugged and said 'Forget what Waif or Val have to say, the wind today is blowing due Daria... chill... it won't last. Try to enjoy it, nice work on the make-up Stacy, now Daria, please try to smile at the cameras, your face will not break!'

So real Daria had cowered behind the bushes while stage Daria had grinned at the reporter, thanked everyone, no, she had no plans to perform again, well yes she would of course but there was no gig booked, Mystic Sprial were the professional musicians, you should talk to them, Trent Lane, yes he wrote the original songs, M_Y_S_T_I_C, S_P_I_R_A_L, no, I don't write songs myself, that's silly – I don't see myself as a role model for anyone, I'm just a regular Highschooler, thanks, bye (blown kiss) BYE.

It got worse once she entered the school. Ms. Li was waiting with Mr.O'Neill who was sporting an impressive black eye and an expression of what he probably thought was righteous indignation but looked more like constipation. Li greeted her 'Miss Morgendorffer! My office, now.'

Daria's deep seated agnosticism was shaken to the core by the sudden appearance of two angels. The first took the form of Jodie Landon who came up to the principal and said 'Hi Ms. Li, here's the receipts and cash we took in at the cafe opening last night, we need to re-stock immediately coz we sold out all the coffee, sodas and snacks in the place last night, gotta run, byeee.'

was staring stupefied at the wad of cash in her hand when the second wingless angel, this time even more improbably avatar'd as one Charles Ruttheimer the Third handed over a printout showing what the advertising revenue from all the Youtube hits was going to amount to so far and the projections for the rest of the month. Daria could have sworn the woman had a momentary orgasm when she looked at the bottom line. Her demeanor changed completely as she led the way to her office, smirking in a way that reminded Daria of Jabba the Hut.

Charles gave her a rueful grin and a shrug as she followed. Later he'd explained that he'd hoped to be able to keep the revenue for himself but found he'd shot himself in the foot when he'd posted it under the cafe's name. If anything some of it should go to Daria and the band but they both knew that ship had sailed, and besides, Charles gesture had turned the Dragon Principal into their new best friend and he was getting offers from all over to do lighting set ups. Before the lunch bell rang Trent Lane had surfaced in daylight and answered the summons to her office (old habits are hard to break even after three years) and Tim O'Neill had been threatened with expulsion. He'd scowled at the heavily built gentleman waiting in reception to be interviewed for the job as head of security but couldn't remember where he'd seen him before.

By the end of the day Daria and the Spiral had been booked (Shanghai'd) to play every Wednesday until the holidays in December. Daria had wondered why Trent was so compliant until he told her that the Spiral had been offered their dream gig of every Friday night in the Zon AND every Saturday night in McGrundy's... but only if Daria was with them. She was snookered, Li had coerced her into playing the cafe so she couldn't exactly refuse to help the boys out at their real gigs. She figured the hype would blow away in a week, two at the most and she could fade back into sweet obscurity... 'It's a pity it's anatomically impossible to properly kick yourself in the ass' she thought to herself four weeks later as she trudged down the stairs to face her mother.


	11. Part 2 Chapter 3

**More P3**

'My God! Helen! Calm down. What is wrong with you?' Linda Griffin was concerned, the normally cool and unflappable lawyer was only a little short of foaming at the mouth. No stranger to histrionics herself she recognized the signs of an imminent tantrum. She couldn't afford this, not today, Linda had too much at stake for it to be ruined by some insane hissy fit. 'Look Helen, breathe for krissakes it's not like she's on drugs or knocked up or some other dumb thing kids do. Get a little perspective, you're a goddam lawyer, not some Jerry Springer reject!'

This seemed to have the desired effect. If not exactly calm Helen's rage turned to something colder, in a way even more frightening. Taking a deep breath Helen asked 'What are the details of this broadcast? It's just a local radio station, right?'

Linda shook her head. 'Wrong. Can you crank up that computer? I wanna show you something.'

Reluctantly, Helen did so. There was a hesitant knock on the door. 'In a minute, wait there.' She yelled. To Linda she said 'OK, show me.'

Linda had opened a browser and keyed in the address of the radio station. There was a livestream window but it just showed a timer counting down, nineteen minutes and twenty seconds, nineteen, eighteen... She pointed to a figure on the screen. 'That's the number of people online right now and the show doesn't go out for twenty odd minutes.'

Helen sneered 'Two thousand? That's...'

'No Helen.' Linda pointed to the xK at the end of the line. 'That's over two million online and rising. The local station is hosting this but our parent has picked it up and we're syndicating all the way from WHUB in Boston down to some country rock station in Mobile, Alabama. Boston, New York, Baltimore, DC and everything in between. I'm not here for fun Helen, this is the biggest deal of my career to date. The ad revenue is off the chart for KSBC. Daria is big news and therefore big business.'

'What's she getting out of it?'

'More exposure and publicity than any act outside of "America's Got Talent". I know for a fact representatives of two labels are in talks with the band but Daria refuses to sign anything.'

'What's stopping her, I suppose she's waiting for a better deal, looking for something to inflate her ego some more.'

Linda paused. To herself she thought _'...and there I was thinking my daughter and I couldn't understand each other... if she said something like that about Sandi I'd understand but Daria?'_ The image of the polite, withdrawn, quiet spoken girl that Linda had met just didn't sit with what Helen was saying about her, not at all. Aloud she said 'She told me she needed to talk to you before she made any kind of decision.'

'ME! That's a laugh, I can't remember the last time she needed me for anything! Who authorized this broadcast anyhow? She's a minor.'

'Apparently, you did. Is this not your signature on the waiver?'

Helen studied the document Linda had taken from her bag. It WAS her signature, she had signed it the other morning thinking it was just some school thing. She hadn't read it or listened to Daria as the girl had earnestly tried to explain what it was all about. Helen then wondered when she had started to tune out Daria's dull monotone voice and when was the last time they had had a conversation... as opposed to a shouting match.

Linda spoke up again 'Listen Helen, I know you want to talk to her about this but keep a lid on it, OK? As my Mom used to say, talk but no hitting. Several million people want to hear her talk and sing in...' She checked her watch. 'Just over fifteen minutes, so don't make her cry or, and let me be clear about this, I know your law firm but the station has damn good lawyers too, you make her cry and I'll make you bleed, clear?' Helen colored up a blotchy red but nodded curtly and turned to look out the window. Linda pushed her still full glass to the side of the desk and said 'I'll take a rain check on this. After we go off air at three if you're in the mood I'll be happy to join you in a little celebration. Goodbye Helen.'

The door opened and closed and, a moment later, opened and closed again. Helen heard someone plopping down in the other chair. She continued to gaze out of the window into her back yard and after a moment realized there was a group of people out there and she focused on them, wondering what they were doing. There was a handsome doofus of a guy in a letterman jacket sitting on a low wall with a blonde cheerleader type in his lap. They were laughing at the antics of a well built African American boy and his expensively dressed girlfriend as they tried to get the charcoal in Jake's rusty old grill going. It was a bit late in the year for a cookout but it was a beautiful Saturday afternoon and it would remain pleasantly hot until the sun went down.

The African American girl with the cornrow hairdo had stuffed an oversized package of potato chips up her shirt and was pretending to be pregnant, pointing an accusing finger at the boy. He was shaking his head with pantomime denial then grabbed the bag out of her shirt and pointed at the red label on it just as a red-haired boy in a leather jacket sauntered into the yard. The first boy roared a challenge then started chasing the other boy around threatening him with the barbecue fork. The girl tossed the second boy a spatula and they started fencing. Posing like Errol Flynn and leaping off and on the walls and furniture like lunatics.

The first boy took a fatal hit to the heart and died tragically, reaching for the girl as he did so. Then he got up and made a speech and died again, and again, and again until finally a chubby goth girl came over and sang a high note completely off key and everyone collapsed into laughter. Helen couldn't help but smile at the antics of these young people enjoying themselves. She wished her daughters could have friends like that... wait a minute, these were Daria's friends. Daria's friends. Daria had friends? She finally turned to look at her daughter and stopped dead. Daria was dressed in cute fashionable clothes and her hair was done and she was wearing a fashionable hat... and her make-up was perfect and she looked like... She looked like a model in a magazine or someone off a TV show... she looked like... the hair was darker and she still wore her glasses but she looked exactly like an older version of... Quinn.

Helen's legs lost their strength and she sat down heavily in her chair. This was too much, this was too much... how could she... she shouldn't... she had no right... with her poor sister lying cold in a...

'Mom! Are you all right? Mom, please, talk to me. Oh my God, MOM! Do you need a doctor?'


	12. Part 2 Chapter 4

_**More P4**_

Despite the horrible color her face had taken on Helen was not suffering a heart attack, instead it was the outer display of her inner turmoil. She wanted to shout at Daria, wipe the make-up off her face, tear off those fashionable clothes, beat her until...

It was ironic that it was the word of that self-serving witch, Linda Griffin, that held Helen back. Later she was grateful for the fact because, unfettered, she would have done irreparable harm to her relationship with her remaining daughter. As it was she barely managed to keep her temper under control enough to ask 'And what did that fancy outfit cost? What happened to "I don't believe in fashion"? What are you trying to prove with all this... this... showing off?'

Daria sighed, relieved. 'This outfit cost nothing... they're paying me to wear it today for the webcast, I'm going to be on camera for an hour and there's a still photographer as well, I have to look the part.'

'They? Who are they and why would anyone pay you to wear clothes?'

'Cashmans Department Stores. This is from their new Winter/Spring line. They're paying me ten thousand dollars to wear it today and I have to mention them once in the interview.'

'How, pray tell, does Cashmans even know you exist?'

'It was from the article and photoshoot in Val magazine, I told you about it, you signed the permission slip.'

'I did no such...' She stopped and thought about it, then said 'When did I do that?'

'Two weeks ago, they did the shoot at Cranberry Commons on a Sunday morning before they officially opened so we had the place to ourselves, just the photographer and some sales staff.'

'What photoshoot? You're not a model!'

'They do a special feature every month... real girls in real off the peg fashions. It turned out well, I have a proof copy upstairs if you want to see?'

'So... it's all about the money now, are you planning to get yourself a lawyer and sue for emancipation?'

'What? Mom! NO! I put it in a college fund.'

'So I suppose you don't trust me to hand over the money for your college fees?'

'Please Mom... I don't understand... this has nothing to do with you... I'm... I'm... trying to help out a friend... give something back.'

Helen had finally calmed down enough to take this in and ask "Who? Why... explain it to me... please'

'You met my friend Jane right? The artist? She designed the t-shirts everybody's wearing.'

Helen nodded, but couldn't remember meeting any friends, another tune-out moment.

'Well her parents have pretty much abandoned her. Her brother has legal custody. They're a bit like you.' Helen raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'I mean... what's that expression? If someone cut you in half the word "lawyer" would be all through you like in a stick of rock candy. Well if you're a lawyer through and through then Jane is an artist and Trent, her brother, is a musician. He tries very hard and she's better cared for than some kids with two working parents, but they're poor, dirt poor.'

'Are you trying to say you're not taken care of...'

'No Mom. Gawd! Please just hear me out. He started a college fund for her last year, she wants to go to BFAC in Boston after High School, she keeps hoping her 'rents will turn up like guardian angels with a wad of cash.'

'That sounds responsible of him.'

'It has three hundred dollars in it... or rather it did, now there's over thirty thousand and after today, there'll be more. I owe her. But please don't mention it to her, she has her pride.'

Helen couldn't help sneering 'So is she your girlfriend now, is that behind this change in your look?'

Daria stood, she seemed taller in her high heels and that ridiculous hat. 'I'm straight... and as far as I know... or care... so is she... that's irrelevant. She. IS. My. Best. Friend! I owe her my life... so I'm trying to give her the one she wants. I don't expect this silliness to last so I'm milking it to help a friend... even if that means dressing up like...'

'Like Quinn?'

There was a long moment of stillness after Helen said that name. Daria worked her jaw a bit and breathed deeply through her nose. Eventually she said 'I miss her too, Mom.'

'DON'T GIVE ME THAT. You're trying to take her place, admit it.'

'No M... Helen... I'm trying to take mine. Now I...'

There was a knock and the door opened. Linda Griffin stuck her head in and said 'We need Daria upstairs now, we're on in three. OK Helen?'

Helen, with almost twenty years courtroom experience behind her, couldn't think of anything to say. She silently followed the other two upstairs. The landing and spare room were full of people, equipment and monitors. Helen noticed that her and Jake's room, as well as the pink thing that would always be Quinn's room to her, had been locked shut.

Daria retrieved a ragged looking magazine that was made up from pages straight off the printing press with trim marks and color bars along the edge that had been cut and placed in sequence in a transparent binder. She selected a page and handed it to Helen, then sat in a computer chair and Stacy Rowe came up to fix her make-up.

Helen leafed through the article, it was a big feature over several pages. Daria and those girls from the fashion club posing around the shopping mall. The photographer had favored a long lens so the pictures had all been taken from some little distance away. They looked very natural as a result, just kids hanging out in a mall in different outfits. Her expert eye picked out an emotive word in the text "...my sister Quinn", and another "...Quinn would have" and again "...in Quinn's honor..."

The last full page picture was a classic. The four girls outside the movieplex carrying sodas and popcorn. It looked as if Daria had just made one of her trademark sarcastic remarks and wore her half smile while the other three were cracking up with laughter. It was a beautiful picture. Helen looked up with a tear in her eye and saw Daria gazing stoically at her until a good looking guy handed her a guitar and said 'Here you go D, all tuned and ready for you.'

'Thanks Wouter. Showtime.' A black haired girl in a red jacket gave Daria a quick hug and a number of people wished her well as she went into her room and took her place with the guys in the band. Her electronic drums had been replaced by Max's usual kit. The bed had been taken into the spare room to make space but even so Trent, Jesse and Nick looked a bit crowded. Helen noticed that the tall woman she'd seen earlier was sitting at Daria's keyboard which had been moved back toward the corner and another woman with a smaller keyboard was wedged in beside her. Daria's computer was missing and all the cables ran to a complicated looking sound board in the corner manned by an engineer. A large desk had been set up by the wardrobe with two chairs opposite each other occupied by a fat middle aged man with a pony tail and a slightly younger guy in a biker jacket. An efficient looking young woman with a clipboard and headset was counting them down, thirty seconds to air. Someone turned on a big monitor on the landing and Helen could see a split screen showing views from four cameras in the room. The assistant went silent and counted in three, two, one with her fingers. Helen could hear commercials coming to an end as a red light came on overhead and the show began.


	13. Part 2 Chapter 5

_**More P5**_

Max counted them in and the band started playing a short version of Queen's _"We will Rock You"_, with Daria playing Brian May's complicated guitar riff at the end. At the last beat the DJ launched into his intro 'This is Maryland's number one rock station **KSBC ****_We Will Rock You!_** with your host Rock n'Roll Randy.'

'And Larry the Looper Lupo.'

'Rockin the nation from beautiful downtown Lawndale. This is **ROCK!** (echo effect) _The Next Generation_ where we showcase the stars of the future. I'd like to welcome all our listeners up and down the East Coast of these wonderful United States of America and a special welcome to our listeners on the World Wide Web. I'm fulfilling the dream of a lot of teenage boys today, wait til I tell you where I'm broadcasting from.'

Larry interrupted, obviously well used to this kind of banter 'Not just teenage boys Randy. I know a certain DJ has her picture on his bedroom wall!'

'It's my own personal Hall of Fame Larry as well you know. But let's not keep the listeners in suspense any longer. I'm sure they all noticed my intro music today wasn't a recording, that was a real live guitarist right here and yes, we're in her bedroom. Can I get a round of applause from the crew here for Daria Morgendorffer, Lawndale's answer to Slash.'

There was a round of clapping and cheering. Daria spoke into her mike in her most dry and deadpan voice. 'Hey, knock it off Randy, you're embarrassing me. I'm just a kid who plays guitar, Slash is rock n'roll royalty, I'm not fit to tune his guitar.'

Trent chimed in 'That's not true listeners, she's very good... at tuning guitars.'

'Hey!'

'Ha ha ha, yes rockers and rockettes, that's Trent Lane, lead singer and songwriter with local Lawndale favorites, Mystic Spiral. Daria, how about you introduce the rest of the band to the listeners.'

'Sure thing Randy. Don't worry folks, it's not the zombie apocalypse just a rare daylight appearance by the world's leading somnambulist, Trent Lane, singer, songwriter, guitarist and slacker.'

'Hey there.'

'Then to his left the cutest bassist on the East Coast, Nick Campbell, to my right is guitarist Jesse Moreno, who suffers from a previously unheard of allergy to shirts. Behind me here is literally the heartbeat of the band, Max Tyler.'

_Ba dum kish!_

'Joining us just for today are our special guests from another local Lawndale Band, the Harpies, they'll be playing keyboards on some of our songs as well as adding their vocal talents. Say hello to Terry Suarez and Monique DeKlerk. Hi girls, welcome.'

'Hey.' 'Hi.'

'You know I gotta tell ya Randy, Monique is one woman I really look up to.' Daria continued.

'Why's that Dar?'

'She's almost a foot taller than me...' Daria said with a perfectly straight face, it took a second but then she got her laugh.

Randy continued 'So Daria a month ago you were just a schoolgirl, a sophomore in High School right? and then almost outta nowhere you're this big sensation, how'd that happen?'

'Well gee Randy I'm still trying to figure that one out, I don't even know what IS happening. All I know for sure is I love music and like to play. I only just found out how great it is to play in front of an audience a few weeks back, I never would have believed it... I never would have believed I'd've had the nerve to do it either, I gotta thank the guys for helping me out.'

Trent said 'Hey, don't thank us, you're the best thing that happened to us since my Dad left me his old guitar. I gotta say Randy, we always hoped we'd make it big, we had our dreams, you know? Then this girl who goes to school with my sister walked in and showed us what we could really do, apart from the fact that she's one mean guitarist and a great singer she acted as producer on our new demo cd, she's our George Martin.'

Larry said 'Yeah, I can't stop listening to it, gotta be honest, I saw you guys last year and ya kinda sucked, this CD is great, ain't it Randy?'

'It sure is, you guys gotta record deal yet?'

'We have a couple of really good offers but I can't blame the labels, they want Daria in the package...'

'...and I'm still in school and not about to drop out any time soon.' Daria added.

Randy said 'Wow, I see your problem, let's pick up on this right after these messages... aaannd we're out, listen guys people are hearing commercials but they can see you on the webcast so no pickin yer noses or scratchin yer asses, OK?'

'Damn' Daria mock swore, then she started squirming around saying 'My ass is really itchy, you know really, really, really, like there's ants in there or something and this thong is sooo tight.' Daria wore her half smile while she was wiggling her hips and shimmying until everyone in the room had cracked up and half of them were resisting the urge to scratch themselves.

Through his laughter Randy begged 'Daria, pleeeasse. We have to at least try and sound professional when we get back on air... in thirty seconds... please?'

Daria gave her best totally innocent "Who me?" face then grinned and nodded.

Helen was still sitting on the landing watching this on the monitors. She saw the girl she figured must be Jane leaning in through the open door giving Daria a double thumbs-up and grinning at her antics. Helen's mind was in turmoil still. She could at least keep her temper under control and try to analyze why she was so angry with Daria. The girl had done nothing wrong, was NOT doing anything wrong... in fact she was dressing and acting the way Helen always wanted her to, had begged and bribed her to... and yet... There was the voice and the face of the child she'd given birth to but Helen had to honestly admit to herself that this confident, talented and funny young woman was a stranger. How did that happen?

During the break Daria and Trent had moved to two chairs set up by the DJ's desk with their acoustic guitars on stands close to hand.

The tech counted them in and the red light came back on. Randy briefly re-introduced the show and then picked up on the interview. 'So, Daria and Trent, you were telling us about the offer from the record company. This will be very interesting for other young artists, getting that record deal is what they live for.'

'Well there really is no contest Randy.' Trent answered. 'One of the companies insisted we start touring right away with Daria in the line-up, they're offering more money but the other company is prepared to put us in a studio working around Daria's education so we can get an album done over the Winter and tour with it during the Summer, hitting the festivals and such. As our manager put it "That's a no-brainer"... and she's right.'

'Excuse me! Acting manager. I'm not taking that on full time, thanks.'

'That's good news right there, sounds like a plan... though aren't you worried you'll lose the momentum generated by all the publicity?'

Daria answered this time. 'No... we could lash something together and tour with it but ultimately we'd be ripping off our fans, what we want to do, what the band has always wanted to do, is get into a studio and lay down that first album. Trent's material is too good to waste, and he and I... well mostly him of course... but we've been working on some new songs together, we're going to debut one today and we hope the fans like it.'

'We're looking forward to that later in the show, tell the listeners Daria, how did you get into rock music, lot's of girls join the Glee club or are Christina or Beyoncé wannabe's... why rock music?'

'That's a good question. Actually Monique and I have this in common, we both studied classical music before getting bit by the rock bug. Believe it or not, once upon a time she wanted to go to Julliard, isn't that so Monique?'

'Yeah... but then I woke up and smelled the coffee... or it could have been that Motley Crue concert... I can't say I remember what happened at that gig but I woke up with a smile on my face... you might say the beat got inta me.'

'Don't anybody say it... this is a family show.' Randy warned, only half joking. 'Hey Dar, why don't you play us something classical, I see you have your acoustic ready to go there.'

'On a rock show! Are you sure your listeners won't run away?'

'Nah, They appreciate good music, I'm always curious to see someone's process, their journey, go ahead Daria.'

Daria had been practicing for this so she was note perfect on an abbreviated version of "_Recuerdos de la Alhambra_", which earned her another round of applause. Then she and Trent played _Classical Gas_ which Randy faded into another commercial break.

After the break Daria and Trent were back in the line-up with the band. Randy asked 'So Daria, Classical to classic rock, where's the missing link?'

'Well... really that's the sad part of the story, Randy. A little over a year ago I was in a car crash, I almost lost my leg and I did lose my little sister, Quinn, she was the pretty one.'

'Whew! She musta been a stunner!' Larry interjected.

'Yes, she was.' Daria agreed sadly.

'You musta been very close.'

Daria sighed and paused before replying '...ooops, sorry for the dead air there... but... no... we weren't close... I can honestly say I loved her but we fought like a pair of cats in a burlap sack. I wish I hadn't said...' Then with a wry smile she sang 'Regrets! I've had a few, but then again...' Speaking normally she continued 'But then again, who hasn't? I wish she was here, she'd laugh at me dressed up like this, she'd bask in all this attention but I... I just wish she was here.'

Shaking her head she said 'But to get back to the point of your question after the accident I spent a long time recovering. A lot of the things I used to do just didn't work for me anymore, my music... and especially my writing, I actually wanted to be a writer, books and poems, you know? But I couldn't even look at a keyboard or pick up a pen. Anyway my folks decided to move town, we lived in Highland down in Texas at that time, and I was out of school so I got the chore of packing up or throwing away junk and that's when I found my dad's collection of vinyl records. It was a real goldmine, Led Zepellin, Pink Floyd, Aerosmith, Guns n' Roses and of course AC/DC. I transferred them all to my iPod and went from listening to them to trying to play along on my acoustic. The rest I think you can guess.'

Randy nodded and said 'I get it, I'm sorry about your sister but I'm curious... why would she laugh at your clothes? They look great to me and I saw that magazine spread in Val, you're a knockout!'

'What! This old thing! No but seriously I'm not much of a fashionista, I'm comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt but... there's the old double standard when it comes to women in the public eye. I have to look the part so I have to thank my friends in Lawndale High Fashion Club, Sandi, Stacy and Tiffany, for giving me a makeover. They dragged me down to Cashmans Department Store and picked this out of their Winter/Spring line. I refuse to wear anything throwaway, only clothes that any schoolgirl could afford and will last through the school year at least.'

'They're the three girls with you in Val magazine, right?'

'Right, I owed them bigtime, so when Val came knocking I insisted they be in it too.' In a weirdly gravelly Brooklyn accent she then said 'You do me a solid, I do you a solid, that's how it works, see!'

Larry chipped in then 'Heh, heh, good one. Who are your influences, Dar?'

Daria's mouth quirked up at one side as she answered 'Floyd, out of the Muppets.' This got a laugh then she said 'Sorry, I stole that line from a movie, I'd have to say Eric Clapton would be right up near the top of the list... after Angus Young of course.'

'Of course, well I have to take another commercial break right now, when we come back Daria and Mystic Spiral are gonna do a couple of Eric Clapton numbers for us, don't change that channel.'

Daria took the time to settle herself and take a swig of water. She was getting warm so when Stacy came in to check her make-up she took off the hat and jacket and handed them to her. Underneath she wore a black long-sleeved shirt and black ski pants both of which showed off her slim figure. She pretended not to notice the boys looking at her appreciatively as she did some exercises to loosen up her arms and fingers. In what seemed like a matter of seconds they were on.

They began with "_Crossroads_" and followed it up immediately with a cover of the original "Derek and the Dominos" version of "_Layla_" which went over very well. When they were finished Daria sniffed the air and could smell paint, she looked over at the door and saw Jane with a brush in her hand. She growled 'LANE! I'm gonna clean that off later - with your hair! Which may or may not be still attached to your head!'

Jane said 'Eeep!' and fled.

Randy laughed and said 'For those of you without picture on your radios Daria's friend Jane Lane, a talented local artist, just graffitied "Daria is God" on her bedroom wall, good one Jane. Hey Dar, I like it!'

'If it wasn't for the fact that poor Trent would miss her I'd see to it that something terrible happened to her, very soon.'

'Ok, folks, I know we're running the commercial breaks a little close together but I think you'll all agree I have a pretty good reason. I want to get fifteen minutes of clear air because Daria and the guys are gonna do something special, d'you wanna tell us about it Dar?'

'Thanks Randy. We wanted to do something that showcased the band's talents, that's also the main reason Monique and Terry are with us. Monique's going to play piano and Terry, who by the way also plays alto sax, is on the keyboard giving us organ and strings. Trent is going to take the vocals on this one and play the acoustic intro. It's by another guitar hero of mine, Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits. After the break we'll be playing "_Telegraph Road_" and then there'll be another break. Randy.'

'Make it so.'

Daria wasn't going to sing this time so she moved in front of the boys and turned to face them, the tech, Wouter, came in and moved her pedal box for her. Helen wondered what that was all about until the song began. Through all the changes of tempo and intensity Daria acted as the conductor, giving the other musicians their cues with her hands or with her head if she was playing herself. She was confident and precise, the leader of this group each of whom had at least five years over her. The climax of the song had Daria and Monique matching each other as their hands flew over the keys/strings leading to the big finish, which drew a spontaneous roar from the people in the house and Helen could hear a matching roar from the back yard where she knew Daria's high school friends were watching on a widescreen TV. People were still clapping when they came back from the break.

Helen stood and walked downstairs as the band were all smiling and congratulating each other. Whatever this was she had no part to play in it. She'd almost ruined this for Daria and she still did not know why. She went to the kitchen, ignoring the middle aged man with greying black hair and an intense demeanor who was sitting with a fortyish arty type blonde woman in her dining room. She took the Tylenol from her medicine cabinet and dry swallowed three, then turned on her heel and left the house, her expression dark and confused. She stood for a moment considering her car, then started walking away in the direction of the town center.

In the house Tony DeMartino and Claire Defoe looked at each other with raised eyebrows, then stood and followed the troubled woman down the street.

The second last song of the broadcast was a brand new version of one of Trent's songs, "_Little Sister_" which, although it was still an ode to fraternal love it now had much gentler lyrics and a compelling melody that came from Daria's own pain. It brought tears to every eye and left Jane an emotional wreck but it got the biggest round of applause so far that day.

The show ended with what had become Daria's signature piece "_Whole Lotta Rosie_" then Randy signed off and jumped up to congratulate the musicians. The tech came in with the numbers from the web and said their hits had stayed high and increased by the end, it was a success. They'd have to wait for the radio numbers but Linda had already had a call from her boss congratulating her and the crew on a great job well done.

* * *

Five miles away, in the parking lot of Lawndale Golf and Country Club, Charles Ruttheimer Senior, founder and although retired still president of Ruttheimer Construction and Ruttheimer Holdings, asked his driver to turn off the radio and drive them home. Senior, as he was known in the family, had spent the last five years since his wife died slowly embalming himself with Woodford Reserve fine Kentucky bourbon.

He didn't have many regrets but he did wish he hadn't misspent his youth. He'd grown up during the rock and roll era and spent all those wonderful years studying to be an accountant and then being an accountant, what a waste! He turned and laid a comforting hand on the shoulder of his younger friend, Jake Morgendorffer, as the man curled up in a ball and wept like a child.


	14. Part 2 Chapter 6

_**More P6**_

Maureen Creedon had come to the United States in 1966 to study at Columbia University and never went home. In the Summer of '67 she'd hopped on a bus out West and joined a commune in California. A love child, two failed marriages and three grandchildren later found her in Lawndale, Maryland, proud owner of her own licensed restaurant which was simply called "The Tavern" as she was a big fan of that old Mary Hopkin song. It was a friendly, quiet sort of place and had one of the few bars in Lawndale not showing sport on a Saturday afternoon. Consequently it attracted groups of women who were more likely to share a bottle of chardonnay than a pitcher of beer.

This particular Saturday saw only a handful of patrons so Mo' was working the bar herself. It would pick up later on when the early dinner crowd started to come in but for now she was polishing glasses and listening to the radio which was set to a low volume by the cash register. Having always been a rock and roller who could still jive and twist with the best of them she'd been enjoying the show and was seriously impressed by that local girl and her band. Mo' wrote down their upcoming gigs they were announcing near the end of the show: Student Café, nah, Zon, no chance, McGrundy's, definitely a possibility, Swedesville open air Christmas Market next Sunday? Definitely. Fielding Prep Winter Formal? Definitely not!

The door opened and closed and a small thundercloud of misery with a woman underneath it came in and made a beeline for her. 'Margarita... make it a pitcher... one glass, I'll be over there.'

_'Oh dear'_ thought Maureen_ 'One of those days.'_ Aloud she said 'Sure Hon, why don't you have a seat here at the bar, save me the walk.' She had no qualms about playing the "Sweet Ol' Lady" card when it suited her. The woman reluctantly sat in one of the high stools with padded arms and affected a scowl as she waited.

While Mo' was mixing the cocktail a man and woman came in together and took seats a couple of spaces down from the woman. Mo' recognized the blonde woman and said 'Hi Claire, long time no... who's your leannán buachalla?'

Tony looked puzzled but Claire, although she didn't know the language, had a pretty good idea what Maureen asked. She said 'Hi Mo, this is my colleague and _friend_ Anthony DeMartino, he's a history teacher at Lawndale High.'

'Uh, huh, I see... a colleague, hmm. Here ya go, Hon, now what can I get you two?'

'What is that? It looks nice.'

'Margarita, it's Tequila based.'

'Yumm, we'll have two of those please.'

'Coming up.'

Maureen kept a surreptitious eye on the first woman as she served Claire and her "not my boyfriend". The woman was pouring and downing the drinks at an industrial rate, clearly in search of oblivion, not good, not at this hour... or at any hour for that matter. She saw Claire and Anthony exchange some non-verbal communication which ended with Claire turning to the other woman and saying 'Ehm, excuse me... but aren't you Ms. Morgendorffer, Daria's mother?'

The effect was rather startling. Maureen was a bit surprised herself having just heard that name on the radio but the woman jerked as if she'd been stabbed. She slowly turned to Claire with a baleful scowl and said 'Who the hell are you?'

'I'm... sorry for... I'm...'

Anthony leaned past her. 'THIS is Ms. Claire Defoe, your DAUGHter's art teacher and I am Anthony DeMartino, I have the HONOR of teaching her HIStory at Lawndale High. BeFORE you ask we know perfectly WELL that you are her mother. YOU, can call me Tony.'

'Well... Tony... what do you want?' Helen replied, acidly.

'Honestly? I really WANT to know WHY you hate your daughter SO much? What did she DO to deserve that?'

Helen turned purple and her breathing became short and ragged, all the fight seemed to go out of her and she gasped 'Don't say that... how can you say that... I love my daughter... I loved both my daughters... I love... I miss... I can't... she died! She died... I... I...' Then the sobs began and she couldn't speak for some time. Claire held her and soothed her while the storm of her weeping ran it's course.

******************************************************************************

August 14th. 2010 Highland Health Presbyterian Teaching Hospital, Texas.

Specialist surgeon Dr. Amirlak, paused for a moment outside the waiting room to consider how to say what he had to say to the girl's parents. There was never an easy way to break this kind of news. He took a deep breath and walked in, fortunately there was just the two parents, it was always more awkward when other people were gawking. He didn't like the way they were sitting on opposite sides of the room, not a good sign. The woman looked up with hope in her eyes, saw his expression and her face collapsed in on itself but she made no sound.

Looking confused the man, Jake, stood and said 'Doctor! What news have you got? When can we see our little girl?'

'Perhaps you'd better sit down Mr. Morgendorffer.'

'No, no, tell me she's not... she's not dead too... she can't be NO! NO! NO!'

'Please ... Jake... no she's not dead... but... she went into cardiac arrest twice during surgery... the second time... well the second time we were barely able to restart it... it's not a good prospect. The only good news is that we were able to save her leg, though she may have difficulty walking that's if... if she wakes. She had a subdural hematoma, very severe, we were able to relieve the pressure on her brain but I'm afraid she's slipped into a coma... it's too early to say really but I'm afraid in these cases the chances of recovery are only about twenty percent. I'm so sorry.'

Helen spoke now, her voice cold. 'So she's dead too, just like her sister... you... you... YOU KILLED MY BABIES!'

'Helen please...'

'DON"T TALK TO ME, BABYKILLER!'

Two weeks later, ten days after Quinn's funeral, ten days after Grandma Barksdale and Grandma Ruth and Rita and Erin and Amy went home. Ten days after Helen went back to working fourteen hours a day and Jake started drinking Daria woke up in the long term care ward, in pain, confused, broken... and alone.


	15. Part 2 Chapter 7

_**More P7**_

Jane Lane realized that she finally understood what the phrase "Walking on Air" meant. She felt as if all her birthdays and Christmases had come together. Someone had sung a love song to her, OK, OK it was her brother and her best, best ever friend but still... she was loved and she knew for a fact that she was loved. In all of her young life she had never felt that, not in a real concrete way like she did today. Her face was starting to hurt from the huge smile she'd worn since that song ended, even when she'd been bawling her eyes out at the same time.

As soon as the show went off air the techs started taking the gear out and loading it into the van. Randy and Larry got into Linda's car and went off to make a personal appearance at a mall across town, wishing everyone well as they left. They seemed to be genuinely warm and friendly as they said their goodbyes. There was an sense of excitement buzzing in the air as if something else great was about to happen. Jane figured it was probably just the adrenalin high wearing off.

She had wandered into the back yard and managed to snag the last of the hot dogs that Kevin and Mack had cooked for the impromptu audience. The boys were making themselves useful carrying the gear back into the house and Jodie and Brittany were washing the cooking utensils in the kitchen sink.

She wondered where Ms. Defoe and her escort for the day Mr. D had wandered off to. OK it probably wasn't their scene but it was nice of her to give up time on the weekend to spend with students and give them support. She was pretty sure Mr. D had only come to give the hairy eyeball to Randy ahead of their upcoming grudge match in the Teacher/DJ ice hockey game. Trent and the band seemed to be as stoked as she was but the one person who seemed off kilter was the girl who caused it all.

Daria was going around looking for something, or someone, and seemed more than a little worried. She came back upstairs just as Jane came out of the bathroom and said 'Jane, have you seen my Mom?'

'Not since we were on air no, why?'

Stacy and Tiffany were nearby and had overheard. Tiffany drawled 'She lefft afterr you playedd thaat loonng soonng, I saww herr waalkingg downn the streeet with the teeeacherrs.'

Surprised but a little relieved Daria said 'Thanks Tiff, and thanks for coming today, it means a lot to have people support me, I get so nervous and start making stupid jokes to cover it up.'

The other girls laughed, Stacy said 'Are you kidding? You were a scream!'

'Yeah Dar.' Jane agreed. 'If the music doesn't pan out you can earn a crust doing stand-up!'

'More like bake a crust doing pizza, I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop and I get unmasked as a fraud.'

Jane took hold of her shoulders and looked into her eyes. 'Listen to me Amiga. You. Are. Not. A. Fraud! You're the most genuine person I know. Stop selling yourself short. Look at all the things you do for people, the band are getting a recording contract, Tiff's been offered a modeling contract, Stacy has a part time job in the Lawndale Civic Theater... you even turned Upchuck into a real boy instead of an ass! Just ask Sandi!' The other two snickered at that.

'Yeah but I'm... I'm not... really I'm not... this!'

'Hate to break it to ya! But, yes you are, c'mon, let's get outta here and DO something. Oh and you'd better duck!' This last because Trent and Jesse just came out of the spare room carrying Daria's bed. Nick was behind them with the pillows and bedding and behind him was Max and Chuck with Daria's computer desk.

In fairly short order the house was back to normal and the group of young people was standing around on the front lawn discussing what they should do next. The band had a gig later on in McGrundy's so Trent was in the mood for a nap, Nick had some parental custody time with his daughter and Jesse and Max fancied a game of pool and a couple of beers. Daria gave them the look and they promised they'd take it easy and be straight for the gig. Monique and Terry were going to sit in with the band at the gig as a trial which might become a permanent arrangement.

Chuck and Danny Moreno were now part of the permanent crew and Stacy was also essential. The make-up chair had become a necessary part of Daria's preparation for a public appearance. Since the band were doing much better these days the three of them were also being paid out of the takings, which were much higher now by a combination of increased popularity and Daria's no-nonsense business negotiations. All in all it was becoming a profitable enterprise for all concerned. Even Jane was making a percentage from sales of the shirts she'd designed. If they had a CD to sell at the gigs it would be the icing on the cake.

Jane happened to be looking at Chuck's face as he stood arm in arm with Sandi Griffin when he turned pale and looked as if he was about to run away. She turned to see what he was staring at and saw an obscenely large black car which seemed to be half convertible pull up at the house. Jane said 'What the hell is that thing?'

'Maybach Laundaulet, six liter V12 BiTurbo 620 horsepower... worth about two mill, give or take.' Stacy answered without even having to think about it. Everyone looked at her as if she'd farted. 'WHAT?!' She asked, indignantly.

Chuck excused himself from Sandi and went over to speak to the occupant of the rear compartment, a distinguished looking older gentleman with gray hair and an air of command about him. A moment later he turned and said 'Daria! Would you join us please.'

Curious, Jane followed along, as did Sandi. Chuck was introducing Daria to the old man. 'Daria, may I present my grandfather, Charles Ruttheimer. Senior, I have the honor to present Ms. Daria Morgendorffer.'

Senior took Daria's hand in his gloved one and kissed it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He said 'My dear Ms. Morgendorffer, it is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance, may I compliment you on your performance this afternoon, I can't remember when I've spent a more pleasurable hour.' He smiled a roguish smile with a twinkle in his eye. Daria looked a little flustered and blushed as she stammered a reply. Jane determined to embarass the hell out of her later about it when they were alone. Then the man's gaze fell on her and she found herself transfixed by his charm as he said 'And who are these lovely ladies, Charles? You have surrounded yourself with such pulchritude as to rival the court of Solomon himself, introduce me, do.'

'Senior, may I present Ms. Jane Lane, artiste extraordinaire and Ms. Sandi Griffin, President of Lawndale High Fashion Club... and my girlfriend.'

'I am charmed beyond measure to meet you both but... please excuse me... I must have a word in private with Ms. Morgendorffer. Charles, stay.'

Jane and Sandi backed away, feeling like dismissed children. She saw the old man point at something in the car and Daria blanched white, then looked around hurriedly to see who was watching. The man said something obviously reassuring to her and she seemed to relax. He then spoke to Chuck producing what looked like a huge wad of cash which he handed over. Chuck looked startled for a moment, then cunning. He produced a cellphone and made a call, satisfied, he turned to the group and raised his voice. 'Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to invite you all to an afternoon at the Go-Kart-arama, refreshments included, courtesy of Ruttheimer Construction. Let's go and make sure everyone has a seat in a car!'

This was met with a round of cheers. Jane noticed that Daria seemed relieved and was thanking the old man profusely, he waved her off and she heard him tell her to go and enjoy herself, he and his driver would take care of it. Chuck took her elbow and guided her toward his car, waving for Jane and Sandi to follow. There was a bit of confusion until everyone had gotten into a car and then Kevin Thompson's red jeep led the convoy to the go-kart track on the outskirts of Lawndale.

In the back of Chuck's "pimpmobile" Jane leaned in to whisper to Daria. 'Amiga? What was that all about?'

'My Dad... he was passed out drunk... Mr. Ruttheimer said his driver, Paul, would carry him in once we all left... I'm sorry Jane... it's just he...'

'Daria, listen to me. There's no need to be embarrassed, not in front of me. It's NOT your fault.'

'I'm not so sure about that.'

To try and lighten up her friend's mood Jane turned to the front and addressed Chuck. 'Hey Charley! Your Grandpa is a real charmer isn't he?'

'He is, dear Jane, always has been.'

'Is that what you were aiming for with your old Upchuck persona?'

She could see Chuck's blush rise up to his ears. 'Ehhh, yes... yes it was.' He admitted.

'You missed!' She retorted with a snicker. They all laughed.


	16. Part 2 Chapter 8

_OK, this was a particularly difficult chapter to write. I owe a big debt of thanks to BF110C4 and LongSnakeMoan for their invaluable insights. I would really appreciate any comments on this chapter, I'm happy to rewrite the whole thing again if I've missed my mark by too big a margin. Thanks to all who continue to read my stories._

_**More P8**_

As they pulled into the parking lot of the karting track Jane noticed Daria was gazing intently at Sandi Griffin. Jane had gotten past her earlier dislike of the younger girl in the last few weeks, true, she was still bossy and judgemental but someone, somehow, had managed to remove that stick that seemed to have been permanently rammed up her ass. She was kinder and more thoughtful, particularly to her subordinates. Stacy especially was blossoming into a bright and confident young woman simply from receiving occasional praise from her revered leader. Jane was pretty sure the Charles thing was another aspect of the change rather than the cause. Daria seemed to be ruminating on this very subject.

Chuck cut the motor and, rather redundantly said 'We're here, Ladies.'

'Just a sec, Chuck.' Daria said.' Sandi! Is something wrong? You're very quiet today, did...?'

Sandi turned to face her and Jane was surprised to see her eyes were bright with unshed tears and her lower lip was trembling. In direct contradiction to her expression she said 'No Dee... I'm fine really... actually I'm great... I...' She smiled then, with warmth and uncharacteristic sincerity she said 'This is a great day, one of my best days ever, actually... thank YOU.'

'Me?' Daria replied. 'What'd I do?'

Sandi reached back, took her hand and squeezed it. 'I'm sure you'll say it's nothing all that important but it is... my Mom thanked me today is all.'

Jane was about to say something sarcastic when she felt Daria's grip on her wrist and stopped to think about what was being said. Nobody got that worked up about a thank you unless... Jane tried to remember when was the last time her own mother had spoken to her... much less thanked her for anything.

Daria was speaking again 'A first, huh?' Sandi nodded. 'Glad to be of service.' Daria added with a smile. 'I only wish my Mom and me could... could just talk... you know?'

* * *

'I cant seem to talk to her any more... I always feel compelled to criticize her, I keep finding fault... I just look at her and want to lash out... I don't know why... I really do not know why that is. I love her and I hate her... but what am I saying... of course I love her... I'm not a fool but I don't know... I... I... just don't understand what went wrong...' Helen covered her face and quietly wept again.

Under the guise of letting her go somewhere quiet to clean up Mo' had quietly moved the group out of the bar and into a room she reserved for private parties. Her patrons came in for a good time, if they wanted drama they turned on the TV. While Helen was in the ladies room Maureen made a couple of calls, asking certain members of staff to come in ahead of time just in case. Then she turned to Claire and said. 'Nice to see you hon, you hardly ever come in any more, you're blonde now I see, I hardly recognized you. What happened to the red?'

Claire shrugged and said 'The blonde was on sale, hey, it's not like the eighties when I changed my hair color every second Saturday.'

Curious, Anthony asked 'What was it's orIGINAL color, may I ask?'

'Mouse brown, drab as dishwater, I started dyeing it when I was twelve... is it... OK?' She asked, a little shyly.

'Of COURSE it's OK, I am not one to judge these things... I don't think I'd like PURPle though... I prefer natural colors... not that I've any right to...'

Claire laughed and touched his arm saying 'I don't think Ms. Li would approve either... even for an art teacher... might wake up some of the kids though... eh... here she comes, do you want me to...?'

'I'll talk to her... but I'm not good at dealing with tears.'

Maureen patted his hand and said 'Try not to make her cry then, OK?' Then she excused herself and went back to check on the bar, joking that it was not a self-service establishment. She had a quick word with a large man, who Anthony realized was the new head of school security, Steve something, who had just come into the room. Then they both left. Anthony figured the guy must moonlight here too.

Shortly after that Maureen came in with a tray containing a pot of coffee and some cups and a plate of cookies just as Helen turned on the waterworks again, she brought in some napkins from the restaurant area and left them to it.

'Perhaps.' Anthony was saying, his voice now calm and his weird vocal "tic" seemed to have vanished. 'You could tell us about the accident, start at the beginning... or no... wait... before that... Daria told me she got in trouble about some story she wrote... what happened there?'

Helen's cheeks flushed an angry red for a moment before she replied. 'It was a dirty little story where she wrote about... she described her sister... Quinn was... raped and murdered by a gang of bikers! How could she write that? About her own sister?'

Claire asked 'Did she write a lot of stories like that?'

'What?... No... no she just wrote that one... a lot of her stories had death in them... murders, detectives, special agents, nuclear war... that sort of thing... after 9-11 she invented this female Homeland Security agent who went around the world killing jihadists... she won a prize in middle school...'

'So she just wrote one story where her sister got killed. Did she show it to you?'

'NO... Quinn showed me... she found Daria's password and broke into her... she shouldn't have written it... something like that.'

'And tell me... did Quinn DO something to Daria to make her mad enough to write something like that?'

Embarrassed now Helen took a moment to answer. 'Well she... it was just petty jealousy she wanted to be on stage too, she was just a kid, if Daria was in the recital why couldn't she be? It's understandable, what she did.'

'What? What did she do?'

'She ehh... she paid another girl to push Daria off the stage when she finished her solo performance, I thought she just fell it looked so... funny... everyone was... she wasn't hurt, just a few bruises so I don't know why she had to make such a fuss and refuse to go back to the dance class... but there's no excuse for writing that story, the doctor said it was indicative of a maladjusted personality, he wanted to have her admitted for treatment but no way, no one in my family was going into an institution so he saw her as an out-patient, not that it did her any good, she just got even more sullen and depressed if you can believe it!'

'A private hospital was it?'

'Of course!'

'Expensive?'

'Very.'

'As a lawyer you carry a lot of insurance I imagine?'

'Yes but why...?'

'I have a certain amount of experience with the psychiatric profession from my time in the military, I know some things... but that's beside the point. Tell me, did you have Quinn see the doctor after what she did to her sister?' Anthony asked intently.

'Of course not, why would I? Quinn was perfectly well adjusted and had lots of friends, she was very popular... that was... just sibling rivalry, don't you have brothers or sisters? Don't they make you mad sometimes? I know mine did, but I didn't want them dead.'

Claire leaned in and with uncharacteristic intensity asked 'Not even for a moment, that one little moment of blind white rage when you just wanted to hit! I know I did, and I love my sisters too. There's a hole in my bedroom door at my Mom's house. It was just a cheap door, plywood over a wooden frame but my Dad left the hole there. A little triangular hole about an inch across at eye height where the perfume bottle hit it. My Dad left it there to remind me of what I tried to do to my sister, what could have happened if she hadn't slammed the door? Tell me you never felt like that about your sisters, never even once? Tell me that and tell me the truth!'

Helen had backed away as far as she could in her seat, frightened at first, then thoughtful.

Claire wasn't finished. 'So... if Daria had paid someone to push Quinn off a stage would you have brought her to a doctor... to be... to be fixed?' She almost spat the last part.

Helen turned cold. 'If a faucet leaks you call a plumber, if a shelf breaks you call a carpenter, if your daughter is broken you call a doctor, what's wrong with that? That's what professionals are for!'

Anthony put a calming hand on Claire's shoulder, he reckoned that if they brought out the bull-headed lawyer in Helen they'd get nowhere, they needed to get her to think about what she'd done and was doing by herself, not put her on the defensive.

He had noticed something about her, something she kept doing, every few minutes she would go still for a moment and clench up, eyes shut and fists balled, then release. He recognized the signs, he had seen it before, mostly in the V.A. Hospital as he lay there for months recovering from his shrapnel wound. A soldier would stop, just like that, and relive a trauma, then try and forget it again. He needed Helen to tell him about her trauma, so he needed to talk first in order for her to open up.

He didn't think it was strange that she would open up and talk to strangers like this, it was a human thing to do. After all they were her daughter's teachers and could be confided in if anybody could. He reckoned she needed to talk, the really burned out cases ended up haranguing uncomfortable strangers at bus stops and bars, especially bars... or ranting at God in the street, there was only so much you could keep inside.

He began 'I myself was a Marine, I signed up when I was eighteen, did my time then got out and went to college. I had a teacher's diploma but couldn't get a job so I signed up again, just in time for the first Gulf war. I was the old fart in a squad full of kids, they looked up to me. You saw that war on the TV and it looked like a video game right? I can tell ya on the ground it was no game. These little kids grew up real fast with the smell of the blood and the **** and their best buddies splashed all over a wall.  
I had the privilege of spending time with Daria, helping her bring her grades back up and let me tell you she grew up fast just like those boys, she's a tough kid but I think she was close to breaking. Making a friend saved her I think, it opened her up, let her out of herself. She has a lot of friends now, they look up to her and follow her. They listen to her and respect her. Have you listened to her play? She's not some kid who's technically good at it, she plays from her heart, from all that pain she creates art, have you seen how the audience responds to her?'

Helen shook her head mutely, too caught up in her own reaction to see what other people saw. She closed her eyes for a moment and _again she stood on that highway in the pouring rain, hearing no sound but her daughter's screams becoming ragged and hoarse... fading... stopping. Jake's bloody hands as he tried to pull apart the torn metal to get at his child. The monstrous crane lifting the trailer off the remains of the Lexus, the cutting torches, the fireman saying "This one's alive!" It must be Quinn! Daria was dead, she'd heard Daria die. Quinn was alive and would be with her and give her grandchildren but no it wasn't Quinn Daria was alive only barely no she's dead no she isn't there she is being carried out Oh my God look at her leg look at the blood, the blood, her head..._

'**STOP IT!**'

Claire and Anthony sat back, shocked at this outburst. Anthony twigged that Helen wasn't really shouting at them but a demon only she could see. 'Helen.' He said gently. 'Who did you talk to, after the accident, who did you turn to?'

'Daria kept on seeing that doctor, she's still seeing a doctor, some French guy, they're supposed to be helping her, you said she was doing better.' She finished accusingly.

'She is... but that's not what I asked. Who did YOU talk to?'

'Me? I didn't need to talk to anyone... I had so much work... I had to plan the lawsuit... there's nothing wrong WITH ME **I DON'T NEED A GODDAM SHRINK DARIA'S THE NUTJOB NOT ME!**' Two disbelieving but sympathetic faces looked back at her.

Steve had materialized the moment Helen had raised her voice but managed to make it look as if he only came in to tell them that Hector the chef had arrived and that Maureen had asked him to get the kitchen to prepare something special for them and serve it in here, on the house.

Helen had started shaking and was on the verge of tears again. Her analytical lawyer's mind had just informed her overly emotional grief stricken brain what she had just said out loud. The absurdity of it brought forth a snort of ironic laughter. A sneering voice at the back of her mind said 'Who's the nutjob now?' Anthony seemed to have gone off on a complete non sequitur.

'I am not proud to say I belong to Gamblers Anonymous. We have a very similar twelve step program to Alcoholics Anonymous. My first step was to stand up and say "My name is Anthony and I have a gambling addiction". What's your first step gonna be, Helen?'

A flood of memories ran through Helen's mind as he spoke. The evil little knife twist of guilt as she remembered how she'd tried to include Jake in the lawsuit she'd brought against the trucking company, the shipping company that had overloaded the trailer, the truck driver that had signed the bill of lading, the contractor with responsibility for maintaining the truck's brakes and tires and finally the Texas Highway Maintenance Authority. She'd have sued God for making it rain if she could. The fact that Daria had survived meant a much bigger payout, ironically, the dead are only worth so much. Another twist at the thought that she had been happy about the size of the settlement she could extract, not the fact that her daughter was alive, recovering in hospital... alone... she'd been far too busy to waste time visiting... after all she'd paid for the best doctors and therapists, hadn't she?

...and Jake, she'd blamed Jake... poor damned bloody fool of a man drinking himself to death and parroting any criticism she made of Daria in an attempt to ingratiate himself with her. She noticed the other two were chatting and had left her to her reverie. Damned know-it-alls. She hated people like that, who were they to judge her? She provided... ... ... ... What the hell am I thinking?

'Ehmm... I'm sorry for all that... ehm, ahem, I'm Helen and I have a problem with... actually I don't know what label to put on it... but I... that is I, Helen have a problem and I will try to deal with it, even if it means I have to get help... but I don't know if I can trust...'

'Try your sisters. Mostly you just need someone who'll listen to you. I remember someone once told me "You should never tell anyone about your problems because half of them don't care and the other half are glad!", but I don't subscribe to that. When the time comes you're gonna have to talk to Daria, she could give you some pointers on dealing with s**t.'

'But Jake is...'

'One thing at a time, one day at a time, one step at a time.' Maureen had just come in with their food which looked very inviting. Anthony continued 'Let's eat and then Ms. Defoe and I would be happy to take you out to a pub where you can watch the best rock band in the DC Metro area play tonight. Care to join us Mo'?'

'What the hell, I own the joint, I can take a night off and fire myself in the morning.'

Helen found herself pondering the phrase "Good people" while she ate. There was something else. Something that someone had said to her today that was gnawing away at the back of her mind. Anthony had said _"She was close to breaking..."_ and earlier Daria had said _"...I owe her my life..."_ Helen's thoughts after that were dark and uncomfortable... and laced with an unhealthy serving of guilt.

*****************************

By the way I meant to say I owe a big thank you to CharlesRB for the invention of "Steve". I always feel he lends a calming influence to taught situations...


	17. Part 2 Chapter 9

_**More P9**_

Helen was surprised that Tony and Claire dropped the whole subject of her behavior once she admitted she had a problem and they asked her about settling in to life in Lawndale. She found Claire in particular to be pleasant company though once she got used to Tony's weirdly bulging eye she saw through to the caring and thoughtful person he was underneath.

She had never held teachers in very high regard, at least until she reached college level but once again she was surprised that two highly intelligent people would sacrifice what could have been much more lucrative careers to become educators. She had to smile at the way they played down their obvious attraction for each other. Claire had mentioned in passing that liaisons between faculty members were strictly forbidden under the regime of Principal Li so they were always proper and polite to each other as good colleagues should be... _right_.

The excellent food Mo' had provided helped offset the effects of the tequila she'd swilled down and she felt herself getting out of the blue funk she'd been in when she came into the bar. She knew she'd have to properly think through what had been said today when she was really sober but it helped to feel she might have turned something of a corner and that, maybe, there was a way ahead.

It was still fairly early, much too early to go to McGrundys so she walked home with a promise to meet... yes they were her friends now... at the pub at 7.30 and yes she would take a cab.

She walked in through her front door expecting Bedlam after all the chaos earlier but the house was spic and span, nothing out of place... someone had even vacuumed! It occurred to her that if she hadn't come home early she would have had no idea that the broadcast had taken place... God what a fool she'd have looked on Monday when people asked her about it! How could Daria...? Wait... that wasn't right... how could she, Helen, have been so inattentive? She HAD been told, she HAD signed a permission waiver, she, the hot shot lawyer had signed an important document without so much as glancing at it... looking at the document would have meant looking at Daria and before today she hadn't done that for a long time.

A low grumble caught her attention and she went into the living room to find Jake asleep... no... passed out... on the couch. She stood staring at him for a while trying to figure out which of the conflicting emotions she was feeling was the most important. There was still a vestige of love there but she abhorred this... this thing he had become. Sentiment won out and she got a blanket and draped it over him then went to lie down for an hour.

As she settled back into the pillow she plugged the headset into her phone and looked up a number she hadn't called for... not since Highland... not since...

'Hello Mom? This is Helen...'

* * *

Sandi Griffin concealed her smile at the way Stacy clutched her kart racing trophy as if it was an Academy Award. She felt Daria's gaze on her and turned back to her conversation with the older girl.

Daria said 'I suppose you knew she was secretly a gasoline speed-freak in fashionable pleather?'

'Of course... but don't tell her I know, every girl needs her secrets.'

'What's yours I wonder. You seem a lot happier these days... is Charley that good?' She asked slyly.

Sandi laughed out loud but blushed bright red just the same. 'He wishes. No he's like, a good kisser, I'll give him that... and he really makes an effort to be a gentleman and God knows why but he actually seems to like me and I mean, he **likes**me, as opposed to just wants to "do" me, you know?'

'Actually I don't, I've never had a boyfriend... but I'll take your word for it... and I'm happy for you.'

'Thanks. But... nobody ever asked you out?'

'They asked... well if you saw some of the mutants that asked me out in Highland... I'd rather enter a convent and I'm not even Catholic!'

'What about now? You're like, the most popular girl in school, a real rock star! Our Miley Cyrus.'

'Oh pleassse! People keep saying that! I'll be yesterday's newspaper soon and I can sink back into sweet obscurity. Guys have asked me out... but they're asking "Daria the Singer" not the nerdy "Brain" with the glasses.'

Sandi was puzzled 'Do you want this to be over? I thought you like, wanted to be a big star and present the MTV Music Awards and stuff. Get to hang out in the private bar with drug dealers on speed dial.'

'Are you quoting Nickelback lyrics? Why Sandi Griffin, you'll have your BoysR'Guys fanclub card revoked!' Daria couldn't help smiling at that.

Sandi smiled too 'Shhh! Say it louder why don't you the people in China didn't hear you! No actually I like music with a bit more of like, an edge, you know? Fashionable and popular people like me are supposed to be into the latest boy bands but... ' She lowered her voice as she said 'They suck balls!'

Daria snickered at that then asked 'So... what are Chuckles and the artist formerly known as Jane Lane cooking up over there, d'you know?'

'Jane has an idea for a music video for that new "Little Sister" song you guys did today. She wants Charles to shoot it for her, it could be fun, we could get Jodie Landon to wear a string bikini and shake her booty at the camera...' They both looked over at the straight laced Ms. Landon in her expensive "business casual" clothes, a model of Corporate America and very likely a future Congresswoman... they both collapsed into helpless laughter.

After they recovered Daria said 'I'm sorry you can't come tonight but McGrundy's is strictly over 21's, did you give any more thought to those jackets with "Crew" on them? It would mean we could get you into all our gigs, I'd like you to come to the Fielding Prep dance especially.'

'Yes, Charles asked me already, he's very nervous about going there, the restraining order only expired a little while ago.'

'What did he do to get thrown out? Or do I not want to know?'

'Well he was Upchuck, he was doing Upchucky things.'

'I can imagine... ehm... sorry to be nosy but...?'

'Fantasy and reality.'

'Hmmm?'

'He knows the difference now.'

'D'you mean you guys have...?'

'No... not all... no... but he had, like, this totally screwed up idea of what girls are... at the same time he's such a little boy!'

'We'll call you the Chuck whisperer.'

'What?'

'Obscure literary reference, I'm trying to give them up. So, the jackets?'

'Yes, we've settled on a design, dark bottle green with Jane's "Spiral" logo on the breast and "CREW" on the back, there's a supplier of sporting goods in Baltimore that will do them for a reasonable price. We can get a quantity of jackets without "CREW" to sell along with the t-shirts, they're pretty good quality.'

'That's great. Thanks for the help Sandi, we all appreciate it.'

'It's good experience. I'm like, never going to be a doctor or some brain thing but I think I could do like, event management and marketing. It's fun.'

Daria nodded. 'Don't sell yourself short either... but so long as you enjoy doing whatever you do, there's nothing worse than being in a dead end job you hate, that's my nightmare.'

Sandi shuddered at the thought. 'Ewww. No, that would like, suck. But I think you're going to be a musician, even if it's only teaching or something it's YOU, you know?'

Daria shrugged but couldn't disagree. She looked at her watch and said 'Time for us to do what the shepherds do and get the flock outta here. Thank God there's a dressing room in McGrundy's, though it'll be a bit of a squeeze now with two more girls to get ready, Stacy'll have her work cut out for her.'

'Are you going to do the costume change?'

'Just the one... I'm really looking forward to doing a girl's song for once, I sing so many love songs to women people are expecting me to shave my hair off and wear dungarees!'

'Ha, ha, that is so like, yesterday, nobody does that anymore. Well, I hope the gig like, goes well. Seeya Monday.'

'Seeya.'


	18. Part 2 Chapter 10

_**More P10**_

'Helen!... Why are you... is everyone alright? Is Daria...?'

'No Mom, she's well, we're all fine... I mean no one's hurt or anything... but... '

'Well... I suppose I should feel honored that you'd deign to call your own mother after all this time... to what do I owe the pleasure? I suppose you have some announcement?... Helen!?... are you still there? Really I don't think...'

'I'm here Mom... please... I need to talk to you... it's important.'

'No one's hurt or sick? This isn't another message on an answering machine saying "My child is dead come to the funeral if you want"?'

'Mom... I... please...'

'You, Helen Bar... Morgendorffer the lawyer, wants to talk to me, her mother... have I gotten that part right?'

'Mom I'm... maybe this was a bad idea... I'm sorry I shouldn't...'

'Yes you DAMN well should! Just a lot sooner... don't you dare hang up now! Hold the line a moment... I want some privacy while we talk.'

Helen, with her eyes closed as she lay on her bed with the headphones in her ears could perfectly picture the scene in the old Barksdale house... funny it had taken her ten years to stop calling it "Home". Her mother put the phone on the little rosewood table, stood, smoothing her skirt as she did so, crossed the hall to the drawing room and addressed the three women seated at the table (of course it was Saturday afternoon - bridge club).

(Distantly) 'Ladies, I have a very important phone call to take here, please excuse me for a few minutes, somebody remember which are trumps, I always forget when I'm called away.' Door closes, three steps, rustle of clothing, thump of phone on table. 'Hello?'

'Still here Mom... thank you.'

'For what?'

'...for taking the call... for listening I guess...' Helen knew her voice sounded tired.

'Well... what is it? What do you want to tell me?'

'... I f***ed up I guess...'

'HELEN BARKSDALE! DON"T YOU DARE SWEAR AT ME LIKE THAT! MAY GOD FORGIVE YOU!'

'MOM! Please?'

There was a long moment of silence then Evelyn Barksdale finally answered. 'Very well... I take it you haven't lowered your standards completely and you felt such profanity was justified?'

'That's... very well put Mom... I... wanted you to understand how important this is to me... how badly I fu... messed up...'

'I see but please tell me is Daria OK? She's not back in the hospital...?'

'No Mom... as I said she's doing alright... I think...'

'Would you care to clarify that? It sounds like you don't know...?'

'I... I've lost touch with her... I don't really know her anymore... she's like a stranger living in my own house... I'm at a loss...'

'She's still living there? Oh! Thank God! I thought you were trying to tell me she'd run away or... they'd taken her from you...'

'No.' Helen paused and thought about why her mother had asked that. 'But that's maybe a possibility... as I said, I messed up... I made a mistake... or a whole series of mistakes... a whole year's worth of mistakes...'

'More than a year! Why you... no... forget that... you didn't call to hear me chew over old soup... you must be truly at rock bottom if you are calling me.'

'No Mom I... I'm sorry... I'm really sorry but you're right... that's the God's honest truth... but I... I thought maybe if I went back far enough I could... I thought maybe if I could talk to you then maybe I could... talk to Daria...'

'I take it she won't talk to you then?'

'Why yes... she talks... talked to me but I... I... just didn't... couldn't... listen to her... I honestly don't understand myself... why I feel like she's... my enemy or something! She only tries to tell me something and I bite her head off! It's like you and me only... it's much worse than you and me... if I...' Helen swallowed and mustered her courage before continuing in an almost inaudible whisper. 'If I ever made you feel like this I'm sorry... I'm sorry Mom.'

There was a very long pause when neither woman spoke. Evelyn eventually got enough control of herself to say 'It's all right... it's all right Helen sweetheart... I'm sorry too, sorry we ever got so... GODDAM! I don't know what to say! Look is... is Daria in some sort of trouble...?'

'No she's... I think she's doing well... better... in some ways better than ever... she has friends and she's playing music and people seem to... admire her... and I'm here finding fault with every little thing and I can't even say "Well done" or "Congratulations"... I accused her of being a lesbian today! For no reason! I just... I mean what am I?... What kind of mother does that?... I...'

'What did she do wrong?'

'What?'

'What did Daria do wrong? Why are you angry with her?'

'Well she... she... '

'You don't know... do you?'

'I... no...'

Evelyn took her time before she said anything else then she asked 'Do you remember the last time we spoke? The last thing you said to me?'

'What? No. That was... that was at Quinn's... I suppose I said something or I wasn't...'

'You told me not to bother to come back for Daria's funeral.'

'WHAT?! I never said that!'

'Do you think I'd make something like that up? You turned to me and Rita and Amy and Erin and said "Don't waste your time coming back for another burial... just mourn her along with Quinn there... the doctor said it'll only be a week or two at most. Put it behind you"... you had her dead and buried before her time! When she woke up... do you know how I found out she woke up? Amy told me... she found out because she was flirting with the doctor... I'm still waiting for you to call me and tell me my granddaughter woke up from her coma... I'm still waiting Helen.'

'Helen?'

'Helen?'

'Dammit Helen answer me!'

'... she... I wasn't...'

'We went to see her, did you know? But SOMEONE hadn't put us on the list of relatives so they wouldn't let us in to see her. YOU weren't there to ask either... nor that damn fool you married, where was he? Where is he? Why can't he help you with your conscience?'

'He's... he's drunk... does that make you happy? Knowing you were right all along? He's a drunk! An alcoholic! A dead man waiting to dieee... ' Helen sobbed and wept for a long time.

Evelyn obviously regretted her harsh tone as she tried to soothe her daughter across the miles. 'Helen... please I'm sorry... that was hurtful and wrong... I understand what... why you called me... Helen please listen I'm sorry... Look this isn't working, I can't talk to you on the phone, not about something as important as this... I imagine an invitation to visit here would get the same response as always so I'm going to come to you... to that Lawndale place... don't worry... I'll stay in a hotel but I want to see you and I want to see my granddaughter. I'll make some calls and be there in a couple of days. All right Helen?'

Oddly at peace with this notion Helen whispered 'OK Mom... thanks...'


	19. Part 2 Chapter 11

**_More P11_**

'How MUCH?' Anthony DeMartino looked as if steam was about to come out of his ears.

'Twenty-Five bucks... each.'

Helen stepped past him. 'Four please, put it on my card.'

Tony looked as if he was about to protest but then he deflated and seemed to get older and sadder in a matter of moments. Claire linked his arm and pulled him closer to her. She looked a bit aghast at the price of admission as well. Helen turned to look at Maureen and saw her putting her own card back into her purse. Maureen looked back at Helen and winked.

Once inside they were surprised at how packed the venue appeared to be. 'I don't think we're going to be able to get a table.' Anthony said worriedly.

'Already taken care of.' Maureen answered. 'I made a call earlier. Let me grab a waitress.'

A few minutes later the owner himself, Mr. McGrundy (Call me Sherman) escorted them to a reserved booth to the right of the stage right beside the sound desk and ordered a round of drinks for my old pal Maureen and her friends. Anthony was delighted to find they had a range of craft ales on draft and persuaded Claire to join him in a sample tray. Helen copied Maureen and ordered a sherry.

Helen finally had a chance to settle in to her seat and take a good look at her surroundings. She hadn't been to this pub before but knew of it's reputation as a venue for the older crowd to let their hair down. She had overheard her secretary, Marianne, referring to Saturdays in McGrundy's as "Grab-A-Granny" night. She recognized a number of the patrons as business people from the town. There was Eric Schrecter and his brother at a table with two much younger women.

Everyone was dressed up, suits and party gowns for the most part. A lot of female flesh was on display in the next booth, unfortunately most of it belonged to one woman wearing a glittery blue sequined dress whom Helen was pretty sure she'd last seen in the supermarket wearing a muumuu.

The bar itself had been remodeled recently and now resembled a theater. The main floor in front of her booth had been cleared of tables for dancing but was already full of people waiting for the show to start. The stage was to her right and the circular bar over to her left near the entrance. There were two mezzanine floors with balconies above the bar and two banks of theater boxes flanking the stage on both sides. A large screen comprised of nine smaller lcd screens hung over the stage which were probably used to show sports. Helen reckoned there must be at least five hundred people in the place and it was fairly buzzing with laughter and excitement. Piped music was playing but not loud enough to interfere with conversation.

With a drink in front of her Helen thought it might be nice to get to know Maureen a bit better before the show started. 'So.. Maureen... I wouldn't have thought a rock concert was your cup of tea. Do you go to a lot of these sort of things?'

Mo' pretended to be offended. 'What? An old lady like me should be listening to string quartets or knitting?' The she smiled and said 'Thursday the seventh of November 1963.'

Helen raised an eyebrow. 'What?'

'That was the day The Beatles played in the Adelphi in Abbey Street in Dublin. Me and my friend managed to scrounge some tickets so we bunked off school and took the train up to Dublin to see them. If you look at the old newsreel footage I'm one of those girls running after their car screaming "PAUL!", "PAUL!", it was great. Me Mammy nearly killed me when we got home especially after we stayed up all night coz we'd nowhere to stay. The nuns beat the shite out of us as well when we went back to school. Best day o' me life though, I'd do it again if I could.'

Helen, Anthony and Claire were all smiling at the way Maureen's accent reasserted itself as she reminisced. She told them a few more stories about the sixties and had them in hysterics as she recounted how she got arrested while topless outside of a music festival and how it took four hours for anyone to find her a shirt.

Their attention was drawn to the stage. Helen felt her pulse speed up as she saw Daria walk out with a nervous looking Sherman McGrundy in tow. Daria looked over at the sound desk and pointed to one of the standing microphones in front of her. Then she tapped the mike getting a sound on the second hit.

'Excuse me! Hi!. Excuse me, could I have your attention please! Thank you. Thank you. I have a short announcement. Mr. McGrundy here has informed me that because of the popularity of Mystic Spiral... thank you, thank you... yes because of our increased popularity the fire chief informed him he had to print tickets for our gigs to limit the numbers to six hundred. I see he also increased the admission price, we promise to give you a great show to make it worth your hard earned cash. Thank you, please... Now I have to point out that the tickets were produced without the band's knowledge, isn't that right Mr. McGrundy? So I'm sorry to have to tell you that there's a mistake on these tickets. There is no such act as "Daria and the Mystic Spiral"... We are Mystic Spiral and we're not thinking of changing the name.' This got some cheers and laughter from a certain section of the crowd. 'Thanks again, show starts in about ten minutes, see you all then.'

Daria nodded curtly at Sherman who promptly fled. Then she walked over to the stage door which was opposite to where Helen sat and she could see through to the dressing area. Daria didn't shut the door as she entered so Helen saw her walk in, stop and make a gesture with her arms to someone Helen couldn't see which was obviously "Well?" Then Daria turned her back on whoever was in the room and wrapped her arms around herself and looked as if she was starting to cry.

An almost forgotten instinct in Helen made her want to go over there but before she could move a flash of red drew her attention to the black haired girl she'd seen earlier, Jane wasn't it? Jane had clambered out of the sound booth and run across the stage, through the door and grabbed the shorter girl into a hug.

Still holding Daria, Jane was obviously laying down the law to the guys in the band who rather sheepishly came into view and hugged Daria and kissed her on the head apologetically. Then another girl came over and led them out of sight. Helen wondered what that had been all about but one thing was for sure, Daria... Daria was not the cold, unemotional, unfeeling bookworm that Helen had thought she was. 'Who is she?... Who am I that I don't know?'

Helen had forgotten what it was like to be at a live rock show, particularly how loud it was. The band was really good and the atmosphere was electric. The normally stone faced Daria was expressive and emotional in her performance. She had a pretty good voice but it was the way she made her guitar wail and cry that lifted her above the mundane. Her guitar didn't gently weep it grabbed you by the throat and demanded that you listen, that you felt its pain, its joy, its sorrow and its love.

Most of the songs were rock classics but about one in three were unfamiliar to Helen, probably originals she surmised. They had tailored their set to the crowd and Daria and Trent seemed to have terrific onstage chemistry as they shared or traded the vocals. Their duet of The Eagles "Life in the Fast Lane" went down a storm as it ended with the two of them leaning back to back slowly collapsing to the floor as the song reached it's climax.

'Hey all you business sharks out there...' Daria growled into the mike between songs. 'You know where you are now? You're in the jungle baby!' The she launched into "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns n' Roses followed quickly by an upbeat revamp of Spiral's "Mr. Normal".

After a short break Daria took off her guitar and put it on a stand. She walked over to the baby grand piano that Monique was sitting at. 'There's something I've always wanted to do. Jesse! Could you lift me up?' Grinning, Jesse put his guitar behind his back and easily lifted Daria by the waist and put her sitting on the piano. Daria patted his muscular shoulder and made an "Oooh!" face which got a laugh from the women in the audience.

'Now some of you may have noticed we have a couple of new faces in the band this evening. They're joining us on a trial basis but we hope it might become a permanent arrangement. Right here at the piano please welcome Monique DeKlerk! Thank you, thank you. And the lady in the short black dress I'm sure some of you gentlemen may have noticed her... yes please welcome Terry Suarez! Thank you. Now on the radio today I said that Terry played the alto sax what I forgot to tell everyone is that she also plays tenor sax and clarinet... I asked her if she played the flute but she told me she's no good at blowing things sideways... why are you laughing? Why is that funny? Stop that at once... behave yourselves!'

Daria maintained her deadpan but at this range Helen could see the knowing twinkle in her eyes.

Daria continued. 'Who remembers the seventies?' Cheers from several people. 'Well we're going to do a song from the 1970's for you now...' Monique started playing the opening bars from Abba's "S.O.S." Daria, in her most menacing growl said 'Keep that up and we can end your trial right now and go straight to the execution!' Monique stuck her tongue out at her but stopped playing. 'This is a Hazel O'Connor song from the punk era movie "Breaking Glass", this is "Will You?"'

Daria sang the song and it seemed to be over as the spotlight on her went dark but Max played the drum break introducing Terry's soulful sax instrumental before too many people had started clapping prematurely. Charles had the lighting set just right so Terry looked magnificent in her short black dress, black fishnet stockings and high heeled pumps as she played her heart out.

It was, as Daria had promised, a great show. Good humored and spectacular without a single bum note and each song was as well received as the last.

They varied the energy and tempo of the set, fast and loud followed by something more edgy followed by something slower and more thoughtful. Helen wept with just about everyone else at Daria's rendition of "Sweet Child o' Mine".

It was during one of the more laid back periods that Daria announced they were going to do a Tom Waits song. Now Helen loved Tom Waits and had collected every one of his albums since "Closing Time" so she was really curious to see what Daria would do with it. She immediately recognized the grungy chords and noticed that Daria seemed to be eyeballing Eric Schrecter as she sang.

'Liar, liar with your pants on fire  
White spades hangin' on the telephone wire  
Gamblers reevaluate along the dotted line  
You'll never recognize yourself on Heartattack and Vine.'

But it sounded a lot more like 'Lawyer, lawyer, with your pants on fire...' to Helen. What caused her much more concern, however, was during the chorus. Helen knew the lines by heart:

'Boney's high on china white,  
Shorty found a punk  
Don't you know there ain't no devil?  
There's just God when he's drunk  
Well this stuff will probably kill ya,  
let's do another line  
What you say you meet me down on Heartattack and Vine...'

But that wasn't what Daria sang. She had definitely sung. 'Don't you know there ain't no devil?  
There's just Dad when he's drunk...' Helen quickly turned to the others in her booth. Claire was in Anthony's lap sucking his face like a teenager but Maureen was looking at her with sadness, yes, she had heard it too. What could this mean? What else did she not know?

She knew it must be getting near the end of the concert as Daria left the stage and Trent took the lead on a couple of songs. Then there was a pause as the lights went dim. After a few moments a distinctive, repetitive guitar riff began. At first Helen thought it was "Eye of the Tiger" but of course it wasn't. As the lights came up to reveal Jesse, with his back to the audience as he stood in front of the drums, playing the riff with precision. Daria's voice came out of the darkness.

'Just like the white winged dove  
Sings a song, sounds like she's singing  
Ooo, ooo, ooo'

Recognizing the song the crowd cheered. Daria, without her guitar, stepped into the spotlight so she was back to back with Jesse. She still wore her boots but now she wore a dark green knee-length feathery dress with long hanging sleeves that looked liked wings when she put her arms straight out to the side.

Daria sang Stevie Nicks' oddly compelling lyrics passionately. Monique's gravely voice and Terry's sweet soprano blended perfectly with Daria's throaty contralto in the harmonies. Even though she herself was only on "The Edge of Seventeen" she managed to sound like an older woman as she sang.

'Well then suddenly  
There was no one left standing  
In the hall yeah yeah  
In a flood of tears  
That no one really ever heard fall at all  
Oh I went searchin' for an answer,  
Up the stairs and down the hall  
Not to find an answer  
Just to hear the call  
Of a nightbird singing  
Come away come away...'

It was a masterful performance and the crowd cheered and begged for more.

The played "Little Sister" as their first encore and finished, as always, with "Whole Lotta Rosie".

A lot of people left when the band finished and a DJ came on to play music for people to dance to.

Decorum restored and a fresh round of drinks in front of them the four people in Helen's booth sat and quietly discussed how much they'd enjoyed the show. Helen found she couldn't say much. Objectively, she'd had a great time, the music was the soundtrack to her own youth, especially as her mother had forbidden her to listen to that "Godless" noise. She'd met Jake at a rock show at Middleton College when she'd asked to get on his shoulders so she could flash her boobs at Steve Tyler. They'd been together ever since. Now here was Daria, the first time Helen had seen her on stage since that dance recital, looking and sounding like a goddess, owning a crowd of adults and whipping them into a frenzy as if they were a bunch of kids. How? Why? How do I...?

'Mom?'

Daria was at their table with Jane hovering behind looking worried.


	20. Part 2 Chapter 12

_**More P20**_

'Daria?... I...' _'I am not ready for this, not...'_ Helen strove to remain calm.

'Helen! How nice to see you out of the office! Are you getting an autograph too? Kimberley was so starstruck when she saw this wonderful singer come over here that she just had to come and meet her. Miss, could you sign this t-shirt for my little sweetcakes?'

Flustered, Helen stammered 'Hi Eric... Richard... I didn't expect...' 'Sure, Jane could I borrow that felt tip?' Daria said, cutting her off.

'This is great Helen, why don't you slide around the bench there and we can squeeze in, let me order another round for everyone.' Eric and his brother sat in on opposite sides of the booth obliging Anthony, Claire and Maureen to slide into the "U" of the bench effectively marooning Helen. The two young women monopolized Daria, asking her about her music and getting her to sign the t-shirts and caps they'd bought. Daria was polite but distant, obviously annoyed at the interruption but not wanting to be rude.

Jane touched Daria's arm and pointed over to the stage door where Charles was beckoning and pointing to his watch. Richard Schrecter was noisily ordering more drinks and a bottle of champagne for the ladies and was oblivious to the tension among the people they had interrupted.  
'Miss... Daria isn't it? Won't you join us for some champagne? Bring your friend... or would you prefer a cocktail? Let me guess... I bet you're an "Old-Fashioned" type of girl, am I right or am I right?'

Daria managed a strained smile, she knew who these people were even if they didn't know her and she knew that in her stage clothes and make-up she didn't look like a high school student. 'Thank you, but no, I must be going, my ride is here. I'd like to thank you all for coming out to support us this evening... all of you... it really means a lot to me to see you here... a lot... thank you. I hope to see you again... soon... really soon. I... good night all.' With a last look at her mother and a smile for Anthony and Claire she turned and left with Jane.

'Wow, she's a real little hottie, ain't she Eric? And that voice is soo sexy, huh? I bet she's...'

'ExCUSE ME for interrupting you but I beLIEVE I should tell you that THAT young lady is a MINOR. A sophomore in high school to be precise. Perhaps it would be a good IDEA for you to take more CARE of what you say about her.' Anthony's eye was bulging dangerously but for good or ill both Richard and Eric were too tipsy to notice.

'Well I bet she's old enough to...'

'Eric! Daria is my daughter.' Helen said just loud enough.

This effectively derailed the conversation and an uneasy silence settled for a few minutes until the drinks arrived. With all the subtlety of a half brick in a sock Eric started talking about how great the classic rock songs were over all the lousy rap music you heard everywhere. Richard joined in and their girlfriends laughed and nodded. Helen noticed a little non-verbal conversation going on between Maureen and Claire and she suddenly felt a little fear. Under the table she reached out and grasped both their hands. With their attention on her they heard her hiss 'Please don't leave me alone with them.'

It was almost two before they were able to make their excuses and leave. Helen shared a cab with Maureen as Anthony offered to escort Claire home in another cab.

Maureen turned to Helen in the back of the cab. 'Well that was quite a day for you, wasn't it? Talk about a roller-coaster!'

'More like helter-skelter... God! I could have killed Eric but... but at the same time I was grateful he turned up... I had no idea what to say to Daria. Pathetic, huh? Me, the lawyer and I can't think of one word to say to her. The other thing is... I'm not sober... all right I'm not drunk but what if I say the wrong thing again? I know I have to talk to her but it has to be...am I making sense?'

'Yes Helen, a lot of sense... but don't leave it too long. Make it tomorrow if you can. Come to lunch at the Tavern, bring Daria, I didn't get a chance to congratulate her this evening. Here's a card, call tomorrow before twelve to make a reservation, we get busy on Sunday afternoons. Driver! This is me on the right, the brown house, thanks. Goodnight Helen, sleep well.'

'Goodnight Mo', thank you for today... it really helped, you know?' Maureen smiled and nodded before turning toward her house. The driver pulled away and turned toward Glen Oaks. The house was quiet and dark when Helen came in. Jake was where she'd left him on the couch but seemed to be sleeping peacefully now. She adjusted the blanket over him then went upstairs. She peeked into Daria's room and saw her face lit by a shaft of moonlight as she slept like an angel.

Helen prepared for bed and sat down at her dressing table to remove her make-up. She sat for a very, very long time gazing at her own reflection.


	21. Part 2 Chapter 13

_**More P21**_

Helen awoke late the next morning and immediately regretted it. She had all of the symptoms of the classic hangover. _'Fluids... Lots of fluids... Need to rehydrate...'_ She thought as she scrubbed the taste of yesterday out of her teeth.

She glanced at her watch, 11.15, better check with Daria before booking lunch. She knocked (ouch) at Daria's door and opened it, bed made, no sign. Still in her robe and bedclothes she went downstairs. Jake was watching football on TV.

'Have you seen Daria, is she out?' She asked him, then wrinkled her nose at the smell. She noticed the crystal glasses from the set in her office, she'd forgotten she'd left them full of single malt scotch on her desk yesterday. One was on the table in front of Jake, empty, the other was in his hand. 'What are you DOING?'

'Having breakfast, what's the problem? I think she went out about an hour ago, she didn't have any words for her old Dad, oh no, not for ol' Jakey... no one in this family wants to talk to ol' Jakey.'

'Stop feeling so sorry for yourself and get rid of that, we need to talk!'

Jake looked at her, then down at his glass, then back at her. 'Slainte!' He said and downed the whiskey. 'There, all gone. What is it now? I paid those bills as we agreed, I haven't forgotten anything.'

Helen was livid. 'I didn't want you to drink it! You'd better not have any more, I mean it!'

'Oh, sorry.' He didn't look sorry. 'What flew up your ass? You look as if you had a few yesterday too, join me in a hair o' the dog that bit ya? It'll cure that headache.'

'No Jake, that was a mistake and I'm trying to correct my mistakes, not add to them.'

'Suit yourself, I'm going to the golf club in half an hour any how, cab's booked.'

'No, wait... We need to... dammit, I have to call Daria, I want her to come to lunch with me. Where's my phone...'

'Good luck with that, why'd you wanna eat lunch with that lil' sourpuss I don't know, she's probably out doing interviews or buyin a jet or something... rock star! Huh!'

'Dammit Jake! Hello Daria? Who is this? Oh Jane, can I speak to Daria please? A meeting? With whom? Mr. McGrundy, why? Oh yes, ten dollars more... six thousand, yes that is a lot for printing a few tickets but will he...? Will she...? Eighty percent, really? She must be... Well that's good to know. You are? Well congratulations... gig manager? How much? Good for you... yes... I imagine it would buy a lot of art supplies... could you ask her to... I was hoping we could have lunch? Oh... Fielding Prep... rehearsal? Oh I see, their Glee Club, yes I understand that could take a while... Will she be...? Oh. All right then, no, don't bother, I'll see her later I suppose... yes... goodbye Jane... Yes, me too, bye.'

Helen closed her eyes tight and sighed, another opportunity gone. Well... let's deal with door number two and oh God! Mother's coming, why did I do that to myself?_ 'Who was it said only a fool fights a war on two fronts and only a madman fights a war on three? Well that's me, coming and going!'_

'Jake, turn off that and come out to the kitchen, we'll have a cup of coffee and a little chat before you go out.'

'But I'm watching the football...'

'It's yesterday's game, you Tivo'd it, just pause the damn thing. We need to talk and we're going to talk, now!'

Petulant as a schoolboy Jake paused the game and followed Helen into the kitchen where he sat at the dining table sulkily. Helen made a pot of strong French roast and poured them each a cup.

'All right Jake, let me begin. I... I have made a lot of mistakes... especially since Quinn's... since Quinn died. I know I blamed you... I know that wasn't fair but I... I don't think I've been in my right mind since then, except maybe when it comes to my work, I can detach myself and concentrate on my cases. I blamed you and I blamed Daria too... it wasn't her fault either but I blamed her just the same. I have to try and fix things. I'm going to try and fix things with her then maybe you and I can... fix ourselves? I don't know... I don't even know if you want to... But... I have to know... What happened between you and her?'

'What do you mean? I told you she doesn't even...'

'Jake! I know something happened.'

'Whatever she told you she's exaggerating... it was only a...' He stopped, guilt, fear, regret and anger chased each other across his features. 'She's lying, nothing happened!'

'You're lying. She didn't tell me anything... well not directly anyhow. What is there for her to exaggerate? Remember I'm a lawyer and besides which I always know when you're lying to me. Tell me now, I need to know if I have to press charges.'

'For what? I told you, nothing happened! She just... she...'

'Jake, look at me... look me in the eye goddammit! What. Did. You. Do?'

'It was just one time... just once... I lost my temper and she... just one time.'

'Jake if you sexually abused...'

'NO WAY! I... I... I hit her one time. Just one time... not like my old man, oh no... He...'

'Get out.'

'What? You can't...'

'Yes, I can. I'm her mother, I'll get a court order if I have to but right now you will pack a bag and leave this house and I will not speak to you again until you have one of those tokens saying you are one month sober. I mean it Jake, get out.'

'You drink too! That's the hangover talking! If you...'

'No Jake, that's the Mother and the lawyer talking, I'll quit too, right now, not that I drink often anyhow but I'm not gonna be a hypocrite about it. If this family is to have a chance then we, the parents for god's sake have to work at it and that means you have to get in a program.'

'But... Where will I go?'

'Jake... I was going to say I don't care but God help me I do... Check into a hotel or phone a friend or sleep in your car but you are not sleeping under this roof drunk again. This is a family home and has to be a safe place... she has to feel safe here.'

'Dammit Helen, I'll get my own lawyer! I'm not gonna be thrown outta my own goddam house!'

Weary now, Helen sighed and looked at him sadly. 'Do that Jake, get a lawyer, just not one of your drinking buddies. Get a lawyer and make sure you tell him the truth, all of it. But right now you will go pack a bag or I will go looking for a judge who'll grant me a hearing today.'

Jake stood up suddenly and his chair fell over backwards. He looked as if he was about to start shouting again but then deflated. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. A few minutes later Helen heard the front door slam and then her tears fell in earnest.


	22. Part 2 Chapter 14

_**More P22**_

Amy Barksdale leaned against the hood of her elderly red sports car and pushed her sunglasses on to the top of her head. It was a bright sunny day but cold, there was a chance of rain later but the soft top would remain down until it was really raining, she loved that car... certainly more than any of the men she'd known in the years she'd owned it. As she waited for the High School to let out for the day she thought about what she was going to say... would Daria even recognize her, after all it had been what, seven years since they'd spoken, she'd only been a little girl then. _'God! How did we let it go for so long, Helen... Why? Why? Why...?'_

Her relationship with Helen... with both of her older sisters actually had never been particularly cordial, not even when... or perhaps because they lived under the same roof. Rita, the eldest, was Mom's favorite, Helen was the under appreciated over achiever and she... well by the time she came along the Barksdale family dynamic was writ in stone. Thou shalt find fault with every single little thing any other family member does or tries to do. If no fault exists thou shalt accuse them of showing off to make you look bad. Thou shalt obey thy Mother no matter how unreasonable her requests. Thou shalt ignore thy Father and not disturb him while he's smoking his pipe in his potting shed. Thou shalt be bitter and miserable and alone because that builds character and helps you to stand on your own two feet... unless your name is Rita in which case thou shalt have all thy vicious little heart desires. Thou shalt... Amy realized she was grinding her teeth together again and tried to think of something else.

Jake... She'd always gotten along with him and found him friendly, helpful, affable and kind. She'd always wondered what he and Helen had in common. They seemed to have a real connection though, at least they'd had but now... she hadn't seen much of them since that Christmas when she'd given Daria that guitar and Helen had thrown her out of the house.

It was ridiculous! Quinn, the little queen bitch had thrown a tantrum because she'd only gotten another Barbie doll but Daria got a much more expensive gift. Instead of teaching her some manners Helen had rounded on Amy and accused her of playing favorites just because Daria looked a bit like her! And poor Quinn, there it was again, "Poor Quinn"... Helen said that so often it might as well be the girl's name! Poor Quinn who'd had to wear Daria's hand-me-downs for a whole year before Helen got a job. Poor Quinn who had to struggle to get a "C" while her sister got all "A"s. Poor Quinn couldn't dance as well as her sister even in a brand new tutu and silk slippers. Poor Quinn got headaches when Daria played her guitar in the house so Daria had to practice in the garage. Poor Quinn had to take remedial math while Daria went out to meet the President of the United States in front of the whole school so Helen and Jake had to bring Quinn out for a milkshake to console her and so they'd missed Daria asking the leader of the free world pointed questions about education policy. No, life hadn't been fair to Poor Quinn.  
Amy had honestly detested the spoiled little brat and then she had to go and die and wasn't that just a kick in the pants?

Amy thought back to the Thanksgiving before that fateful Christmas which she'd spent with Helen and Jake at their house in Highland. Nine year old Daria had been quiet and withdrawn the whole time and hadn't had a single thing to "Give Thanks" for until Helen had glowered at her threateningly and so she'd recited an old bedtime prayer by rote, obviously not meaning it. Barely having touched her dinner Daria excused herself and went to the room she shared with her sister.

Later, Amy went in to try and cheer her up. She found Daria sitting on her bed with a curious contraption in her lap. It consisted of a cardboard box with a long piece of wood attached to it with Sellotape. On the wood strings and frets had been drawn on with a ballpoint pen. Daria was listening to something on her headphones and playing along on the imaginary strings. Her fingers had a curious grace to them and as the orchestra surged Amy recognized Rodrigo's Concierto De Aranjuez. In her mind years later she could still hear Daria playing the melancholy second movement.

'Daria' she'd said, hating to interrupt. 'What happened to your guitar honey?' Daria had stopped the cassette player and taken off the headphones. With her head down and her hair covering her face she'd finally answered with a catch in her throat.

'Dad drove over it with his car... it wasn't his fault... he didn't see it.'

'Wouldn't your Mom get you a new one? I didn't think guitars were very expensive.'

In a peculiar sing-song Daria recited. 'Little girls who don't take care of their things can't expect to get a new one every time something gets broken. We're not made of money you know!'

'Did you take care of it?'

A nod.

'Did you leave it on the floor?'

A shake of her head.

'How come Jake didn't see it?'

'It was under a tarp.'

'Did you leave it there?'

Another shake of the head.

'Do you know who did?' Amy asked, starting to get the picture.

'Nobody else goes in there except you or your father, you must have left it there yourself so you only have yourself to blame. You have lots of other toys so go and play quietly with them.' The resemblance to Helen's voice was uncanny. Amy saw tears fall from under the curtain of hair and land in the girl's lap.

'It wasn't really a toy to you was it?'

Headshake.

'You really want to be a musician?'

'I just wanted to learn to play properly... like the people on the tape.' Her head came up at last, her eyes huge and wet behind the glasses she wore. 'The music is so beautiful I wanted to try and make it myself... is that bad?'

Struck speechless by the adult phrasing and the intensity of emotion the child displayed it took a few moments for Amy to compose an answer. Eventually she said 'No, it's not bad... in fact it's right, it's what artists... you know I work for an auctioneers evaluating paintings don't you? An auctioneer is someone who...'

'I know what it is, I'm not stupid, not like...'

'Yes, of course you do. Well it's my job to look at art every day and I love my job. Well there's people who paint pictures and then there's artists, people who live it. They don't really care very much about the money or being famous or anything at all except getting their vision down on canvas or paper or whatever... anyway my point is I think you're like that with your music... I wish I could hear you play.'

'I'm not very good and I can't practice any more...'

'How about I make you a deal. I'm coming back for Christmas in a few weeks, I'll bring you a nice new guitar and you play a little concert just for me, OK?'

'You don't have to...'

'Yes, yes I do. Now do we have a deal?' The image of Daria's smile at that moment was one of Amy's fondest memories, outshone only by the smile Daria had displayed when she'd unwrapped the black Epiphone that had cleared out Amy's savings account. True to her word Daria had played a little private concert just for her. In fairness she wasn't very good but there were moments of brilliance, a promise of what was to come. A hint of the master musician that had emerged on that YouTube video Amy had watched over and over again. A siren call that had brought her here, on a cold Tuesday in early December in suburban Maryland, to finally reconnect with the girl that had been as close to a daughter as Amy Barksdale would ever have.

She tried not to think about the ugly scenes that had followed, Quinn screaming about how unfair it was, threatening to destroy the instrument when Daria wasn't looking. Daria threatening to murder Quinn if she so much as laid a finger on it. Helen sending Daria to her room but not Quinn, no, not Poor Quinn. Helen's angry whisper as she told Amy to pack her bags and go home that very night and don't come back again. Hapless, helpless Jake looking foolish and embarrassed but lacking the cojones to speak up about the injustice of it all...

'Hey Daria, your Mom is here.' Some boy had shouted._ 'Who? Helen? Where?'_ Amy cast about looking for that obscene SUV Helen drove. And there was Daria in a cool looking black leather jacket in company with a taller, black haired girl in a red jacket and an expensively dressed brunette. Daria was looking around as well, puzzled. The she caught sight of Amy and a smile grew on her face, rapidly developing into an open grin. She mouthed the word "Amy" and started to run toward her aunt, her limp becoming noticeable now. Amy started to close the gap between them as well but as they got within a couple of steps Daria stopped and shyly held out her hand to shake. Brushing it aside Amy closed in and grabbed the girl into a tight hug, feeling it being returned after only a moment's hesitation. Smelling apple blossom in her auburn hair as she held her close Amy kissed her head and murmured 'Daria.'


	23. Part 2 Chapter 15

_**One (More) Little Thing Part2: Chapter 15**_

'Amy, what are you... sorry, sorry girls. Amy these are my friends, this is Jane Lane, she's an artist and this is Sandi Griffin, style guru. This is my Aunt Amy, I told you about her.'

The two girls stepped forward to shake hands but Amy kept one arm tightly gripped around Daria's shoulders as she shook. Her day was made when Daria laid her head on Amy's shoulder and squeezed back.

After the niceties had been observed Amy became businesslike. 'Daria, what are your plans right now?'

'Well I was... we were going to go, that is Jane and I were going to go for pizza and Sandi has a meeting but you're here so why don't you come along with us?'

'Yeah... I'll tell you what... we need to have a proper little talk, preferably somewhere fairly private or at least quiet. Tell me first, have you spoken to your Dad?'

'No, why? Did something happen to Mom? Is...?'

'No... she's fine but I have to tell you something, do you know somewhere quieter than the pizza parlor?'

'Ehhh... no, I...'

Sandi interrupted. 'Silvio's would be better. Students don't go there and they get people in there in the afternoons having business meetings. It's about a ten minute drive across town.'

'Thanks Sandi, that's sounds good. Do either of you girls have a car?'

'I do, but...'

'Well how about you and Jane go in your car and I'll take Daria in mine and follow you.'

'But I have a...'

'Could you cancel it? Please, I'd like you and Jane to come along if you would.' Amy gazed meaningfully into Sandi's face trying to communicate what she wanted. Fortunately Sandi was adept at that sort of thing and acquiesced immediately.

'Come on, Jane, let's go get my car, I'll call Stacy and Tiffany on the way.'

Jane looked a bit puzzled but shrugged and followed along.

Daria looked questioningly at her aunt. 'What was all that about? You obviously have bad news for me because you think I'm going to need someone to hold me up after you tell me.'

'Yep, you're the smart one all right. Hop in, we'll talk on the way.'

Fifteen minutes later Jane and Sandi were sitting at a table in Silvio's when Daria and Amy came in. Daria had obviously been crying and made a beeline for the ladies' room. Jane got up to follow after but Daria waved her back. Amy sat down opposite the two girls.

'OK, you guessed something was up. Can I depend on your discretion?' They nodded. 'Daria's Mom threw her Dad out of the house on Sunday and told him not to talk to her until he was a month sober. I think Helen finally woke up and is trying to sort everything out. I'm here with my Mom, Helen's Mom too obviously, you know what I mean. Helen asked her to come and I came along, if Helen's mending bridges I wanna be the first across, I really miss Daria, and Helen and Jake and even Quinn. I don't know how much Daria told you?'

Jane answered. 'Most of it, I think. It took a while for her to open up but I'm pretty sure I have the story.'

Sandi agreed. 'Yah, she... she told me about Quinn, she seemed to think I was a lot like her. I wish I could have met her, from what Daria told me we'd either be like, best friends or worst enemies.'

'So you're a spoiled little bitch too?' Amy asked with a smile to show she was joking.

Sandi though was quite serious when she answered. 'Yes... I was... am.'

'I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to insult you.' Amy apologized.

'You didn't. Daria was like, this big thing happening in school and I wanted to be part of it. Suddenly without even trying she was the most popular girl in Lawndale so I pretended to be friends with her.'

'Pretended? But...' Jane was looking angry.

'Yes, I pretended. Daria is really smart, you know. She called me on my bullshit... like... like she could read my mind or something. She told me not to try mind games on her.'

'So how...?'

'Next day she came up and asked if I was OK. Just like that. She was like, worried about me. Then she asked me to help her with another outfit for her gigs.' Sandi smiled a crooked smile. 'That's when I knew something my Mom told me was like, totally wrong. Friends are better than followers and Daria is a good friend.'

Jane nodded vigorously at that. 'She's the best. Speak of the devil, are you OK Daria? Amy told us about your Dad.'

'Yeah I was... I didn't even notice he wasn't there! I mean how could I...' Daria's face went stony. 'He was right, I am a cold bitch.'

'No way José.' Jane declared indignantly. 'That is wrong on both counts. But you know what I don't get? Your Mom. Now she is... ' Jane caught the look Amy was throwing her way and shut up but kept muttering inaudibly.

They were interrupted by the waiter who took their order. Three rustic pizzas and a salad. Amy ordered a glass of Vino Nobile di Montepulciano for herself and the girls had colas.

'So Amy...' Daria began. 'Why are you here?'

'Mom called me which gave me nearly as big a shock as she got when Helen called her. I think your Mom is finally ready to start grieving for Quinn. I figured she might need me... even if only as a punchbag.'

'Start? you mean...?'

'Well I'm no psychologist but I do know Helen, she bottles it all up, everything.'

'That's pretty scary.' Jane looked shocked.

'Yeah, but she called Mom, I think that's a good sign though to be honest I'm not looking forward to this dinner tonight, it's guaranteed to be a harrowing experience.'

'Where are we going?'

'Well for starters _you_ are not invited. Not tonight anyhow. Mom does want to see you though. We're in town for three days, well I am, Mom could stay longer if she wants but I have to be back in DC for a Friday morning meeting. We're staying at the Dutchman Inn and Mom has reserved a private dining room for tonight, ambulances will be standing by. I was hoping one of your friends would put you up tonight, I'll spring for dinner somewhere if you like?'

'You're always welcome in Casa Lane Amiga, you know that.'

'You're welcome in my house too.' Sandi added.

'Thanks Sandi but Jane's is closer. Do you want to have dinner with us?'

'No, thank you, Charles is taking me to Chez Pierre.' Sandi replied with a smile.

'Ooh, la la. That's it, keep milking the Ruttheimer's golden cow!' Jane quipped.

'Wait a sec.' Daria suddenly looked worried. 'Is Rita here too? Mom goes berserk at the mention of her name, she...'

'No, thank God. You probably didn't hear about it but Rita's daughter, you remember Erin? Well she got married the weekend before last, Mom paid for everything of course. I was invited but didn't go. Helen was probably invited too but most likely burned the invitation. Anyhow Rita's off in Gstaad recovering from the strain with her latest squeeze. Mom paid for that too but I'm not jealous, not me, no how, contrarywise.' That at least got a laugh which lightened the mood, or at least three quarters of it, Daria still brooded.

Their food arrived. Sandi had been right, it was several notches up from the Pizza Prince.

At the end of the meal there was a scrabble for the check but it was Jane who held it up triumphantly. 'Mystik Spiral's newly hired gig manager is going to pay for this!'

'Well... they say there's a first time for everything.' Daria snarked back having recovered somewhat from her funk.

'Thrrrppppppppt! Just don't get used to it!'


	24. Part 2 Chapter 16

One (More) Little Thing Part 2 Chapter 16

_'That Sandi chick was right, the cotton is better!'_ Trent thought to himself as he checked himself in the mirror. Black cotton shirt, tie made out of whipcord, black denim jeans, silver buckle, pointy toed boots. _'Every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man...'_ Trent sighed and turned away. _'All dressed up and no place to go!'_

It was Tuesday night which for him meant a night off, no practice and no gig. The only problem was that tonight Monique had headed up to Baltimore to visit with her folks, Max was off doing whatever he did every Tuesday that he wouldn't talk about. Nick seemed to be getting back with his baby mama and Jesse was on a date with Terry. Not long ago Trent would have gone and laid down and slept through it but his sleep pattern was pretty close to normal these days so it just wouldn't work.

He looked at his reflection again. He thought about the cash in his wallet. He thought about Monique. _'Hell with this, I'm goin' window shopping!'_ Yep, that would work. _"But Monique, I was only window shopping!", yeah.'_

'Janey! You home?' Nothing. _'Outta here!'_

Trent parked in the multi-story on the business side of town. He took his new tan leather jacket off the back seat and put it on. Cocktail bar? Oh yeah.

He paused for a moment before he got out of the car and thought back on the last few weeks and the changes that had occurred. All because of her. He thought about the way he used to be, spending most of his time lying in his bed sleeping or trying to sleep, dreaming of the big time. He was gonna be a big rock star, some day, some day soon his ship would come in and he'd be made. Dream on, loser.

The thing is it had been so close, the possibility was there but he was too dumb to see it. He'd spouted all that bull**** about not caving in to the "Man" but it was just an excuse to not make any effort. At first what Daria had made them do seemed like a lotta hard work for no pay but he soon realized it was just being professional.

The other thing he'd noticed was the way people treated him, reacted to him, respected him. They called him Mr. Lane, those record company types and the venue owners and the people from the radio station. Mr. Lane. The first time someone said it he'd looked around to see if his Dad was there. That was the deal, Daria had had some fancy words to describe it but that was the deal, you did the work and you earned. Money, fame, respect. You had to earn it... and Daria showed him how. He'd even noticed a subtle change in Monique's attitude, a defensiveness around the girls that had suddenly started hanging around the band, the way she looked at him... it was a hell of a good feeling!

Earlier on there'd been a niggling resentment at the back of his mind. Who was this snotty nosed kid telling him what to do? Ordering him around? But that wasn't who she was, not at all. She didn't shout or taunt or criticize or insult, she just expected you to do what she did, the very best you were capable of. She was a better singer, a much better musician and, let's face it, a better person than he would ever be but she had this way of believing in you that made you do more, achieve more than you believed you could. The new Spiral was better than he ever thought they could be, even when she wasn't on stage. She'd eradicated most of the grunge from their sound, not because she had anything against Nirvana but because, like a lot of mediocre musicians, they'd used grunge to cover up sloppy playing. Now they were sharp, on the button, they were damn good!

The success the Spiral were currently enjoying was thrown into sharp focus as he walked up to the door and the bouncer recognized him and held the door open for him. OK, there was no queue right now but still, last two times he'd come here he hadn't been let in!

Trent walked into the bar and paused, pretending to be looking for someone. In fact he was checking out the place and noticed he was being checked out in turn. He looked at his watch and pretended to be a little annoyed and walked to the bar. He sat at the only empty stool and was served immediately by an eager looking blonde with fake hair, fake teeth, fake tan and probably fake boobs too.

'Rum mojito, please.'

'You got it, sweetie, be right back.'

The guy beside him raised a hand and tried to get her attention but she ignored him.

'Gah dammit! Typical gahdamn women ignoring me!' The man muttered to himself.

Trent had a quick scan of the bar but it was crowded and no other seats were available. He had a pretty good idea how this seat came to be vacant, the guy was in the last seat at the end of the bar and there were several empty shot glasses in front of him. It wasn't something Trent would have noticed much before but the man's clothes were rumpled and he didn't smell too good either. _'How did he even get in here? Musta been here before the bouncer came on.' _There was something naggingly familiar about the guy though and Trent wondered where he might have seen him before.

'Hey buddy, lemme pay for your drink and you can order one for me, huh?'

'Hey man, I think maybe you've had enough.'

Suddenly belligerent, the man turned to glare at him. 'Are you tryin' ta tell me whether I'm allowed to drink? Are ya?'

'No man, none o' my business. But if they won't serve you, you know...'

The man looked as if he was thinking about this, then he suddenly started to cry. _'Oh crap!'_

'Listen man, maybe you should go home, huh?'

'Can't go home... got no home... bitch threw me out! Outta my own house! Sleep in your car, she says, don't even have a gahdamn car! Threw me out... bitch, bitch, BITCH!'

'Hey knock it off, pal. I warned ya, any more shouting and you're out. C'mon, pay your tab and get out! Vince'll call ya a cab.' The bartender was back looking pissed.

The man rummaged in his pocket for a few moments, then found his wallet and took out an AmEx card. The bartender brought back the receipt for him to sign. "Jake Morgendorffer."

_'Oh no.'_ Trent thought to himself. _'Not him. Daria's Mom threw him out? Oh man, that's heavy! Just ignore him, just walk away, don't talk to him, pretend you don't know, it'll only cause trouble... DON'T TALK TO HIM!'_

'Mr. Morgendorffer?'

'Yeah, who's asking?'

'Trent lane, I'm Daria's friend.'


	25. Part 2 Chapter 17

_**One (More) Little Thing Part 17**_

'How can you say that! You've never lost a child, you don't know what it means!'

'No Helen, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't shout, I'm sorry you're right, I don't know how that feels and I pray to our dear God that I never do, please Helen, forgive me, please?'

Amy stared at her mother and her sister, appalled at the exchange she had just witnessed, the rawness of it, the suddenness of it, the truth of it... the pain... she would never... was that a blessing?

It had all started out so... ordinary... just another chapter in the Barksdale wars... Her mother had found any number of things to criticize in the hotel. Of course Helen WOULD have to move somewhere that didn't have a Four Seasons and Evelyn had vowed never to set another foot in one of the Grand Hotel chain so that left the family run Dutchman Inn, one step up from a flophouse as far as her mother was concerned.

Evelyn had refused to drive up with Amy in her "Deathtrap" and had insisted on flying from Richmond International to Baltimore-Washington and had then endured a cabride almost as long as Amy's drive up the interstate. Her mood hadn't been improved by the accommodation on offer in the Dutchman and the fact that Helen wouldn't be free to see them until that evening. Amy was pretty sure Helen was in no rush for the encounter, she was pretty apprehensive herself. Barksdale women were famously adept at fighting and holding grudges that would put any McCoy or Hatfield to shame but were equally maladroit at every other kind of human interaction.

It didn't help either that none of them had had a drink. Amy would happily have killed for a stiff straight gin right now for starters.

At least the meal had gone well enough. "Adequate" as Evelyn had pronounced it, rare praise indeed!

Now here the three of them were, not five minutes since the staff had cleared away the remains of dessert and blood had been drawn... metaphorically at least.

The silence persisted for an uncomfortable few minutes. Amy was about to say something even though she was at a loss for anything meaningful to say when Helen unbent a fraction and allowed a small crooked smile on her face.

'Yes Mom, I'm sorry for shouting but please understand... I know you don't know what I've been through... no mother should ever have to... ' Helen paused and screwed her eyes tight shut. 'No one, no one, no one... nobody no man or woman or anybody should ever have to bury their child... '

'But what...' Amy cleared her throat and repeated in a clear voice 'What about Daria? She didn't die.'

'I KNOW THAT! DO YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT!'

'Please Helen... I think maybe... in some part of your mind... I honestly think you don't. She isn't dead.'

'I KNOW!'

'Are you sure?' Evelyn asked gently.

Helen turned her glare away from Amy and back to her mother. 'What? Yes of course, I mean I see her every day! Of course I know she isn't... she isn't... Look Quinn... died... it's been hard for me to accept I know but I know. Quinn. Died... all right? There's no escape from that fact... '

'And there's no escaping that from what you've told us that you think Daria is some sort of changeling, put there in place of your own child.'

'Amy that's just...'

'Just what? Nonsense? Rubbish? What? You said yourself you have no idea why you've been acting the way you have. If not that then what? Explain it to me, please.'

'Amy! Look you don't have children so you don't...'

'No and I never will have! I can't! Tell me that means I don't know how to love!'

Evelyn spoke up then 'Oh Amy, I didn't know, why didn't you ever say...?'

'Because I was ashamed all right? Because unlike perfect damn bloody Rita and Helen I can't make babies! I'm a... I'm a...'

'No Amy your worth as a person isn't defined by...'

'DON'T YOU SAY THAT TO ME! DON'T YOU DARE!'

'Amy, please...'

'No Mom, I'm sorry but I...'

'I'm so sorry Amy I thought you...'

'Thought what? When did you ever give me any kind of consideration? What do you care if I can never have a family? You lost one and I'm so sorry but you're throwing the other one away! If you don't want her I'll take her. I love Daria, I always did.'

'NO! You won't take her from me!'

'Then love her, accept her! Show her! Tell her!'

'How...?'

'Just tell her! Say it out loud goddammit Helen must you be so dense?'

'Amy, please keep your voice down. The staff...'

'Mom, will you for the love of god SHUT UP! I don't give a damn about the staff! Or you! I only want what's best for Daria, won't you... can't you please understand that? I know I was never good enough and Rita has all your love but...'

'No NO NO! How can you say that? I don't love you any less than Rita! You or Helen! I love all my children, I always did.'

'Yes but she gets...'

'And when did I ever refuse you anything you asked me for?'

'But you give her...'

'What she asks for. YOU never asked, nor you Helen. God knows I tried but I'm not going to humiliate myself offering you things and having them thrown back in my face. I swore when you were a teenager I'd never let you hurt me like that again! You only had to ask but I won't keep offering, interfering in your lives where I'm not wanted but to think I'd refuse you...'

'Oh God, Mom... what...? I thought... I always assumed...'

* * *

Across town Trent stood in the plain brown austere utilitarian offices of Jake Morgendorffer Consulting and wondered...

He had listened to the rantings and ravings for over an hour. The denunciations of this "Mad Dog" and most bitter of all the confession of the unthinkable, hitting Daria. Of all people, Daria. Daria, who was as much a sister to him now as Janey, almost anyhow, certainly more so than Penny or Summer, she was his friend. How could anyone...? How could her own father...? She was such a sweet little thing and she cared so much and she suffered so much...

And Jake had hit her, walked into her room and shouted at her but she hadn't heard because of the headphones so he'd hit her.

Trent was no saint, he'd done a few things himself while drunk or under the "influence" and he had some regrets but thank God he'd never... that one time driving home when he'd almost... but he'd missed... thank God...

Jake regretted it, he could see that. It was consuming the man, fueling his addiction but he seemed to be stuck in this endless spiral... he did something he was sorry about so he drank to forget about it and then did something he was sorry about...

Trent had tried. He had finally managed to articulate what had driven him to go to court to get custody of Jane and what that had cost him. But he didn't regret that, he'd never regret that, it was the most awful and disgusting and terrible and noble thing he'd ever done, standing up in that court and basically accusing his parents of abandonment... it wasn't that they didn't care it was just they were so damn bad at it. With Janey in the hospital and no one to sign the papers for the procedure he'd had to nut up or shut up.

His reward? Janey was alive and well. The cost? He'd had to go get a job and when that hadn't worked out he'd had to talk the band into doing cover gigs. At least Nick had backed him up and Max didn't care but he thought Jesse would never forgive him...

He did forgive him now though, since Daria came along. They played covers but also their own songs to crowds they didn't dare dream about a year ago. Was it worth it? Hell yeah, all of it and here he was explaining that to a man who was passed out drunk on the floor of a two bit office in beautiful downtown Lawndale. What a joke!

One good thing. At least he hadn't brought Jake home to his house, not with Daria staying over. That would have been... bad. Hooray for text messaging.

Oh Christ! Jake had been lying on his back so Trent turned him over so he vomited to the side. 'Not cool, Man, you don't wanna do a Hendrix in this dump.'

Now what? Stay or go?

* * *

Jane Lane, student, artist, rock n'roll road manager and pretty damn cool kid even if she said so herself was worried. First there'd been that whole scene with Amy, who was pretty cool too. Then the two of them had eaten a fancy dinner in The Settlement like a couple of business ladies. Then, on the walk home, that semi had passed too close by and Daria had crumpled up in tears like a child afraid of the boogey man. To top that all off there was that weird text from Trent. What the hell?

Now here she was in her room watching Daria play her acoustic, some old song she'd never heard before but it scared her somehow, even though it was strangely beautiful.

I was twenty-one years when I wrote this song.  
I'm twenty-two now but I won't be for long  
Time hurries on.  
And the leaves that are green turn to brown,  
And they wither with the wind,  
And they crumble in your hand.

Once my heart was filled with the love of a girl.  
I held her close, but she faded in the night  
Like a poem I meant to write.  
And the leaves that are green turn to brown,  
And they wither with the wind,  
And they crumble in your hand.

I threw a pebble in a brook  
And watched the ripples run away  
And they never made a sound.  
And the leaves that are green turned to brown,  
And they wither with the wind,  
And they crumble in your hand.

Hello, Hello, Hello, Hello,  
Good-bye, Good-bye, Good-bye, Good-bye,  
That's all there is.  
And the leaves that are green turned to brown.

* * *

"Leaves that are Green" by Simon and Garfunkel


	26. Part 2 Chapter 18

_**One (More) Little Thing Part 2 Chapter 18**_

_Fugue..._  
_Daria I'm sorry about... How can you say that?... _  
_Bon Scott... Who do you think you are?... _  
_The accident was caused by a jackknifed truck on the highway... _  
_Jimi Hendrix..._  
_... in torrential rain, it wasn't your fault, Daria... _  
_Lieutenant Commander William Barksdale... _  
_...paying that girl..._  
_I'm not so sure... Janis Joplin? _  
_No, I'm a stone cold bitch... _  
_He was found..._  
_I'm sorry Daria, I didn't mean for you to..._  
_She died, I know that, don't you think I know that?_  
_It's not your fault_  
_...give up ballet..._  
_She..._  
_You..._  
_is afraid..._  
_left her there..._  
_lying cold in the.._  
_alone..._  
_Why did you.._  
_everybody... Keith Moon, yeah, he was..._  
_Please forgive me..._  
_It's all my..._  
_I love..._  
_ground... _  
_How can you say that?_  
_dies..._  
_You obviously think she..._  
_choked on his own..._  
_alone..._  
_Leave ME!_  
_Please..._  
_You..._  
_Just tell her..._  
_If I go now he might..._  
_that..._  
_The cause of death was..._  
_STOP IT!_  
_I gave her... I made sure she... I..._  
_How can you be so..._  
_Everything she needs..._  
_alone..._  
_and everything she..._  
_everybody..._  
_your father was..._  
_dies..._  
_but she..._  
_was a good and honorable man..._  
_white dresses and cotillions..._  
_is not..._  
_pink carnation..._  
_yet..._  
_a white sports coat and a..._  
_I love her, I always did..._  
_I won't let you.._  
_please don't shout..._  
_If you don't... I will... I love Daria..._  
_Does she know that?..._  
_..._  
_..._  
_..._  
_Begin_

Evelyn Barksdale had a headache, another headache, it was every blessed day now and the tablets just didn't work anymore and they were getting worse. Maybe she should... no, you never complain just say a prayer that the Good Lord will bring you healing. Trust in God, just like you always did. You'd been blessed all your life so keep the faith, believe in Divine providence, the Lord will provide.

The meal had been surprisingly good, it had lived up to what had been promised, plain good food prepared well. Those little platters of market fresh vegetables each done in their own sauce had been marvelous! Something to bear in mind for her own gatherings. At least the food was of better quality than the bed linen, had they never heard of thread count? How she was going to sleep in those sheets and with this headache...

'But Helen bereavement is a part of life, we all lose loved ones, the Lord said "Blessed are those who mourn for..."'

'How can you say that! You've never lost a child, you don't know what it means!'

_'Oh dear Lord, why is she always so argumentative? Doesn't she know I understand and I'm only trying to help?'_  
'No Helen, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't shout, I'm sorry you're right, I don't know how that feels and I pray to our dear God that I never do, please Helen, forgive me, please?'

_'Oh Helen, don't give me the silent treatment, I thought you'd grown out of that, maybe if I...'_

'Yes Mom, I'm sorry for shouting but please understand... I know you don't know what I've been through... no mother should ever have to... No one, no one, no one... nobody no man or woman or anybody should ever have to bury their child... '

_'The poor thing, she's distraught! I thought she was over it... she should be over it, it's been over a year since poor Quinn died! The Lord knows I still miss William and it's been almost twenty years but after the first few weeks I was able to cope and get my life back to normal but Helen! Why must she...?'_

'But what...' Amy had interrupted, she seemed unusually passionate. 'What about Daria? She didn't die.'

'I KNOW THAT! DO YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT!'

_'Oh dear, must you shout so?'_

Amy wasn't finished. 'Please Helen... I think maybe... in some part of your mind... I honestly think you don't. She isn't dead.'

'I KNOW!'

'Helen!' Evelyn thought about what Amy was trying to say and realized she had a point, aloud she said. 'Are you sure?'

Helen was glaring at her now. 'What? Yes of course, I mean I see her every day! Of course I know she isn't... she isn't... Look Quinn... died... it's been hard for me to accept I know but I know. Quinn. Died... all right? There's no escape from that fact... ' Helen seemed to be trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

'And there's no escaping that from what you've told us that you think Daria is some sort of changeling, put there in place of your own child.' _'Goodness! What is she saying? It's those awful books she used to read I'm sure...'_

'Amy that's just...' Helen was expressing the scorn Evelyn felt.

'Just what? Nonsense? Rubbish? What? You said yourself you have no idea why you've been acting the way you have. If not that then what? Explain it to me, please.'

'Amy! Look you don't have children so you don't...'

'No and I never will have! I can't! Tell me that means I don't know how to love!'

Evelyn was aghast! She always thought Amy just held herself above all that, sneering at her sisters and their "Family Values" but she obviously envied them. A hundred, no, a thousand arguments between mother and daughter... every unkind word... every time she'd said... and all this while the poor girl just wanted to be a Mom! 'Oh Amy, I didn't know, why didn't you ever say...?'

'Because I was ashamed all right? Because unlike perfect damn bloody Rita and Helen I can't make babies! I'm a... I'm a...'

'No Amy your worth as a person isn't defined by...' Helen's eighties feminism was showing through again but Evelyn had been brought up in an earlier age, white dresses and cotillions..._"We've found a suitable match for you: Lieutenant Commander William Barksdale of the Richmond Barksdales, isn't it wonderful!" _But Evelyn had failed in her duty, no son, no heir to the Barksdale name, no, that honor had fallen to the son of the younger brother, she knew what Amy...

'DON'T YOU SAY THAT TO ME! DON'T YOU DARE!'

_'Oh no, now Amy's shouting as well, why must they be so...' _'Amy, please...'

'No Mom, I'm sorry but I...'

'I'm so sorry Amy I thought you...' Helen's eyes now held tears for Amy but Evelyn's youngest daughter wanted no sympathy judging by the look on her face.

'Thought what? When did you ever give me any kind of consideration? What do you care if I can never have a family? You lost one and I'm so sorry but you're throwing the other one away! If you don't want her I'll take her. I love Daria, I always did.'

'NO! You won't take her from me!'

'Then love her, accept her! Show her! Tell her!'

'How...?'

'Just tell her! Say it out loud goddammit Helen must you be so dense?'

Both Helen and Amy were shouting now. Evelyn was concerned, what would people think? She wouldn't put it past one of those waiters to give all this to the yellow press.

'Amy, please keep your voice down. The staff...'

'Mom, will you for the love of god SHUT UP! I don't give a damn about the staff! Or you! I only want what's best for Daria, won't you... can't you please understand that? I know I was never good enough and Rita has all your love but...'

Now that was uncalled for. 'No NO NO! How can you say that? I don't love you any less than Rita! You or Helen! I love all my children, I always did.'

'Yes but she gets...'

This was so unfair! She and Helen had both all but told her where to stuff her offers of help in no uncertain terms and just because Rita bothered to pick up the phone and ask how she was now and again they accuse her of favoritism! No! This may not be allowed to stand! 'And when did I ever refuse you anything you asked me for?'

'But you give her...'

'What she asks for. YOU never asked, nor you Helen. God knows I tried but I'm not going to humiliate myself offering you things and having them thrown back in my face. I swore when you were a teenager I'd never let you hurt me like that again! You only had to ask but I won't keep offering, interfering in your lives where I'm not wanted but to think I'd refuse you...'

'Oh God, Mom... what...? I thought... I always assumed...'

'That I loved Rita more, is that it? Well you were wrong. I know neither of you have a very high opinion of me, you think I'm some sort of manufactured trophy wife from a bygone era but I tell you that with God's help I always did what was best for all of you. You had the best of everything, you all went to college, all paid for, none of you had student loans to pay back and you always had a home to come back to if you wanted it. I would love to have had more visits or even phone calls but no... One thing Helen! One thing you let me do for the girls growing up and then afterwards you made me feel that I'd done it to humiliate Quinn just because Daria was better at it! I mean really!'

'Look Mom I...' Helen sighed heavily and shut her eyes tight again. Evelyn looked at Amy, she had closed up as well, no tears but there were bright spots of color on her cheekbones and she was breathing deeply through her nose. A particularly sharp stab of pain got her to her feet and she went to the door and called the waitress to order a pot of coffee and some aspirin.

As she sat back down Amy was speaking to Helen with an intense expression. '... so what are you going to do? Is it going to be possible to put your family back together? You said yourself you haven't spoken to Daria properly... as a Mom... since the accident! Are you able to fix this? I could take her back to Richmond with me... or my place in DC just until you and Jake sort yourselves out. Think about it Helen I...'

'NO NO NO! No Amy I will not give her up, I WILL talk to her I will make it up to her I will find a way to heal us I will bring us back together I will... I will... I will tell her that I love her, show her... Amy I really do love her it's just... '

'What if it's too late?' Helen looked stricken at Amy's question.

Evelyn was dismayed at the cold gleam in Amy's eyes. _'Why is she...? Surely she couldn't...?'_

Helen suddenly smiled and grabbed Amy into a hug. Thank you Amy... I get it, I get it, I see what you're trying to do. You're making me fight for her so I'll understand how important it is! Thank you!'

Evelyn could see what Helen could not, Amy's expression. Amy returned the hug and gave up on her hope.

'Yes Helen... that's what I was trying to do.' Amy's tears betrayed the lie but she held Helen tight to hide it. Evelyn felt her heart would break as she saw the anguish in her youngest daughter's face.

'Girls... Helen... would you please let us help you. Amy and I could spend a lot more time here with you and Daria. I know Erin well, she practically grew up in my house but because you and I are so alike our pride has kept us apart and now I... well I'll never get to know Quinn but I think we all here want to get to know Daria better... I mean I still think of her as this quiet little girl with her nose in a book but from what Amy tells me she's blossomed into this well rounded young woman... Now please don't call me a hypocrite but I want to meet her and hear her play.'

Helen had released Amy and was staring at her mother, her lips trembling. 'Yes Mom... I want to meet her too and you've... you've both been so kind I don't deserve it I've been so... so rude to you both can you... will you...?'

'Yes!' 'Yes Helen, we can... do... whichever is right. Oh look, here's the coffee, let's take a moment, I have such a terrible headache.'

'Oh Mom, I didn't realize, I'm sorry for shouting.'

'Me too.' Amy added. 'And I'm sorry I was rude to you Mom.'

They drank their coffee in relative silence, each lost in their own thoughts, of Daria, the past... and the future.

* * *

'Get in the bed.'

'What?'

'Look I can see you lying there shivering and it's three o' clock in the morning. Neither of us is gonna get any sleep with you making whimpering noises and sighing tragically, now get out of that sleeping bag and get in the bed with me.'

'Jane I'm not...'

'Yeah? Well big whoop! Neither am I now get in the damn bed!'

Reluctantly Daria crawled out of the bedroll and sat on the edge of the bed where Jane had pulled back the covers. She sat still for a moment then lay down on her side lifting her legs and tucking them under the covers. She stiffened for a moment as Jane put an arm around her and held her close then she relaxed into the embrace, accepting the comfort. Jane stayed awake and held her friend until her breathing slowed to a quieter rhythm and she knew that she slept, then with a sigh of her own she allowed herself to slip away to dreamland, dreading the morning.

* * *

'What...? What's that?'

'It's coffee, man, from the machine. I thought you could use something to get the taste out of your mouth.'

Wha...? Oh... yeah, yeah... thanks. Where...? Oh... Who did you say you were again?'

'I'm Trent Lane Mr. Morgendorffer, Daria's friend.'

'Her boyfriend? If you're...'

'No man, chill, I know she's only sixteen and I have a girlfriend. I said friend and that's what I meant.'

'Yeah? Well OK I guess... why are you...? What did...?'

'I walked you back here from the bar after they threw you out, good thing I did too.'

'Whaddya...? OW! My head hurts... What do you mean?'

Trent indicated the mess of vomit on the floor, cold now. 'You passed out on your back Mister M. Know how many good people died that way? Too many. Hendrix, Bon Scott, Janis Joplin? No wait, she was an overdose. Keith Moon, yeah, he was... Anyhow, you could have died tonight, you know?'

'So what if I did? Nobody cares. I'm just the man who killed his kid! I used to hate my old man, you know? Old Mad Dog they called him, mean old bastard never loved a damn thing in his life but at least he raised us, kept us alive, he was right about me, I didn't amount to anything!'

Trent sat back in his chair and considered this man. Here he was having just cheated death and all he wanted to do was feel sorry for himself and whine about his Daddy! What a loser! Anybody else and Trent would have walked out of there and left him to his delusions but Trent felt he owed a debt... and surprisingly Trent was very conscientious about his debts. 'So man, what are you saying? I shoulda left you to die?'

'Nobody cares they wouldn't probably even notice... damn my head!'

Trent leaned in close. 'Daria would notice. She already lost a sister and from what I've seen and heard her Mom isn't winning any prizes in the parent department and you seem to think she wouldn't care if you died too? Man... how selfish can you get?'

'How dare you! I'm a...'

'You're a drunk. Now believe me Mr. Morgendorffer I like to drink too... drink and occasionally do a little recreational narcotics. I know what it's like. I know what addiction is and I'm pretty lucky I avoided it but I'm not gonna sugar coat it for you, you're a drunk!'

'Who do you think you are? Talking to me like that.'

'Like I said I think I'm Daria's friend, I care about her and I want her to be OK. The last thing I want is for her to get hurt any more, how about you?'

'Me? I'm her father I'm...'

'What does that mean? Other than a sperm donor of course. I might be a father some day, tell me what it means.'

'Are you trying to be funny?'

'No.'

Jake looked into Trent's black pupiled eyes for a moment and even through his burgeoning hangover he could see nothing but sincere concern in the young man's expression.

'Is there any more of that coffee?'

'Sure.'

After a while Jake asked. 'What do I do now?'

Trent told him, but he didn't like it... even though he knew that Trent was right.

Helen, alone in her big bed in her big, empty house laid awake and cried.

Evelyn, the headache now a full blown migraine that left her unable to see anything but psychedelic patterns in her left eye, laid awake and worried about her children, her grandchildren and her own mortality.

Amy laid awake and cursed her cowardice, she should have fought Helen, maybe she still should.

Daria, secure in the crook of her best friend's arm, slept peacefully, no longer dreaming of her sister's last words.


	27. Part 2 Chapter 19

_**One (More) Little Thing Part 2 Chapter 19**_

'Told you we shoulda skipped school today, we're not even there yet and I'm beat and we're late!'

'You know it's funny you should say that, actually I...' Daria was gradually turning a bright shade of tomato red. 'I slept really well... first time in a long time as a matter of fact...ehh... thanks Jane.'

'De nada, amiga. At least there's something good about today. Trent never came home, God knows where he got himself off to, if he picked up some skank Monique's gonna freak. Hey that rhymes.'

'Yeah you can be his new lyricist. Look you can only raise them so far, after that they're on their own, you did a good job with him.'

'I did, didn't I? Still, he coulda texted or something.'

'You could text him of course.' Daria answered sardonically.

Jane stopped dead. 'Damn, haven't had my coffee yet.'

'Pants on fire! You've had two cups!'

'Yeah, well... that's just to turn it over, I need at least three to get all the cylinders firing. Look all I have to do is struggle through Anthony's class, I can sleep through the rest of the morning.' Jane answered as she texted on the iPhone Daria'd given her for her birthday.

'C'mon, if we hurry we can scrape in under the tardy bell.' Ms. Li glowered at them as they ran in through the front door of Lawndale High but decided to let it pass. Later during morning break Daria turned her phone back on and frowned at a message.

'OK, this is going to be tricky, I have to have dinner with Mom and Grandma and Aunt Amy but I've to be at the student cafe for the gig by seven thirty, it'll have to be an early reservation, sorry I can't ask you to come along Jane... Jane? What's up? Bad news?'

'What? Oh... no... it's nothing, Trent had a little car trouble is all, he'll be home later... he says hi...'

'Why'd he do that? I'll see him tonight, right? There's nothing else is there...?'

'Look Daria I told you everything's fine, just forget about it, OK?'

'Well sure but don't bite my head off Jane I know it grows back but it stings like hell.'

Daria was watching Jane closely hoping for some normal response to that one but Jane seemed preoccupied and just nodded a bit too much and then said 'Yeah, do that then.'

* * *

Helen wondered how a plea of justifiable homicide would play in a Lawndale Court if the victim happened to be named Eric Schrecter. She's get some sympathy she knew, especially if the jury really was of her peers, her fellow lawyers would give her a medal. It wasn't just that he was an odious little toad but he was basically incompetent. As a lawyer he'd never have made partner without his family connexions and he seemed to take a delight in dividing up the casework in such a way that Helen as second chair did all the donkey work while he took all the credit. Asshole!

Her phone rang, again. 'Hiii Eric, yes they're ready, well it's nice of you to say so... no... no Eric I told you I can't tonight I have a very important family occasion to attend, no it can not be postponed... well if you feel you have to bring it up with the partners then do so, I will not change my arrangements especially after coming in on Sunday and working until midnight on Monday I don't think there can be any doubt of my commitment to the firm. Yes I do know I left early yesterday, five p.m. as a matter of fact, my normal finishing hour according to my contract and that was after I came in at six a.m. to finish those depositions... yes... well thank you... yes I'll see you at the meeting after lunch. Bye. That's if you're still sober enough to see me!' She added after she hung up.

She heard a snicker through the open office door. 'Marianne you never heard that!' Her secretary hooshed her chair back so she could see through the door and gave Helen a wink and a mouth-zipping motion. Then she said. 'By the way Helen a text came in on your cell while you were on the landline, you left it in here charging.'

'Thanks. Let me see... oh... what time did you make the reservation for me at The Settlement?'

'Seven.'

'Tch, could you call back and see if you can make it earlier? I forgot to check if Daria was free, I just assumed... she's playing a gig so... make it five-thirty, I'll go straight from here and would you see if you can reach my mother at the Dutchman Inn? She's such a Luddite, she refuses to own a cell phone like a normal person. No, wait, wait, wait. No, do that, what I said but I'm going to skip lunch here. Do you know any place good for lunch not too far from the high school?'

'You could try Hinckle's Deli, I hear good things, it's that or the Pizza Prince if you don't mind a student hangout.'

'No, the deli sounds better and it's not far, now the hard part.' Helen sat down to compose a text that walked the fine line between a plea and an order.

* * *

Helen sat glumly on a stool at the window bar of Hinckle's and read the text message again.

"Sorry Mom, You know we have to turn off our phones during class. I just turned mine back on and saw your message but I'm already eating lunch. Sory see you at the Settlement this evng - Daria"

At least she wrote properly, Helen hated 'textspeak" and always made sure to put in full words and every bit of punctuation when she texted herself but dammit! Another wasted opportunity.

Behind her a voice shouted. 'Hey, who's the pastrami on rye?'

'The lawyer lady - in the window.'

Was it that obvious she was a lawyer? I suppose it is she thought to herself. It wasn't as obvious a uniform as the ones the cops beside her were wearing but it was a uniform just the same.

'Thanks.' She said as she accepted the sandwich and cup of green tea.

She ate slowly and tried to get her mind to stop processing and just rest, think of nothing, think of the food, it's a damn good sandwich and it'll keep me going til dinner - dinner... dinner with Mom and Amy and Daria oh Christ!

What is Amy up to? I thought she was trying to help but now I think she's trying to take Daria away from me but I WON'T LET HER!

... why though? Be honest with yourself if you were on your own you could just work and you'd have that partnership in no time and not have to put up with Eric slimy Eric creepy Eric with his wandering hands...

... and then what? grow old and die - alone...

...gonna do that anyhow, everybody dies alone so what if I retire to Florida and the kids never call I mean Daria never calls it's not like she would anyhow she never... no you never listen she does but you never listen why when did you stop listening?

I'm not gonna let Amy win is that the only reason? No dammit! No!

Then what? How do I connect? Do I want to connect...?

Yes.

* * *

There'd been a big debate about whether or not they should have wine as Daria was underage but in the end they'd ordered a bottle but nobody was drinking it. Helen and Amy and Evelyn had one of the "quiet" booths at the back of The Settlement where much of Lawndale's business was sealed with a drink and a handshake. Daria had been delayed at school as the principal wanted to see her but she'd texted to say she was on the way.

After all the discussion the previous night none of the women seemed to have much to say to one another and they all three kept glancing apprehensively at the door. Helen spotted her first walking down the street. She was wearing her leather jacket and her rose tinted glasses and had a guitar slung on her back and god she looked cool - James Dean cool. When did Daria become cool?

The bell jangled as she entered the restaurant and approached the Maître d's desk. The man looked up at her with his usual bored and superior expression then sprang to his feet as if a firecracker had gone off under his ass.

'Daria! Welcome to our humble establishment. We weren't expecting you but of course we can find a table for you. Oh this is wonderful would you mind if it's not inconvenient could we take your picture for our wall?'

Daria seemed to be embarrassed and mumbled something Helen couldn't hear.

'Oh not at all, not at all we're always delighted to serve celebrities such as yourself. Henri! Henri! Fetch the camera and let Antoine know. This will only take a moment Daria. When are the rest of your party coming?'

'Actually they're...'

'Daria! Bienvenue! C'est merveilleux!' The tall hatted chef de la cuisine enthused as he appeared like a juggernaut from the kitchen. The staff fussed around her for a few minutes having their pictures taken with her but she was finally able to break away and approach their table. The other patrons gave her a round of applause as she walked through which caused her to redden even more and she was practically running by the time she reached them. It would have been funny if it wasn't for the obvious distress her daughter was in and then to her surprise and dismay Helen watched as Daria seemed to internalize the whole thing and package it away somewhere deep inside of herself.

From somewhere Daria found a smile. 'Hi, sorry I'm late, couldn't be helped. Hello Grandma, good to see you again, you're looking well. Amy, Mom.' Daria sat beside Amy opposite Helen.

'Hello my dear.' Evelyn answered. 'You're looking well yourself, thank God. Does that happen often?'

'No, I'm usually on time.' Daria replied with a sly smile to show she was joking.

'Oh, I see you haven't lost your penchant for sarcasm young lady now answer the question I asked please.'

'Yes Grandma, I'm sorry. Emm... not that often really but it's getting more of a nuisance as we're getting better known. The radio broadcast seemed to amp it up a lot more and everyone suddenly thinks they know me.'

'Well so long as you're not letting it go to your head.' Evelyn admonished.

'God no, I wish they'd stop. But tell me Grandma, how have you been? I haven't seen you since...?'

'Since the ballet school and that was... long ago but no matter. I'm fine, thank the Lord or at least as well as can be expected for a woman my age, I noticed you limping just then, is that why you gave up dancing?' Evelyn asked.

'Yes, well one of... yes... I almost lost the leg you know so a limp isn't too bad but ballet is out of the question. Thank you for that though.' Helen couldn't remember when she'd seen so many smiles on Daria's face but she wondered how genuine they were.

Henri bustled up with a menu for Daria. 'The manager has asked me to inform you that your dinner this evening is on the house. Are you ladies ready to order? I'll take yours while Daria is reading.' They all ordered and Daria added a burger with everything and a side salad.

'Well... I see being a pop star has its privileges.' Amy quipped.

'Excuse me. That is totally wrong.' Daria retorted.

'Oh?' Amy raised an eyebrow.

'I'm a rock star.' Daria replied with a "Miss Piggy" hair toss before bursting out laughing.

Helen felt the knot of tension in her chest loosen a little as she joined in the laughter. Perhaps Daria was more approachable than she'd thought. She certainly seemed to have more of a sense of humor than Helen remembered.

The conversation continued over dinner although Helen didn't contribute much. She found herself applying her lawyer training to analyzing what she was hearing. Daria was affable and polite and made several jokes and both Amy and Evelyn seemed charmed by her but there was something else. Whenever one of them asked something personal about Daria, particularly about how she was coping she invariably fobbed them off with a pat answer or a joke or a quick change of subject. It was a masterful misdirection and Helen knew she'd have a hard time getting anything out of her on a witness stand.

It took a while but then she got it - this was a performance. Rehearsed and professional. For all of her smiles and jokes Daria's walls were higher than ever and impenetrable as night. What had caused her to become so guarded? Helen knew the answer to that.

'What's wrong Mom? Are you all right?'

'What? No, I'm sorry it's all right I just got a sudden migraine, it'll pass, occupational hazard - too much reading the small print.'

'Here Helen, take one of these, I find they're the best.' Evelyn said kindly while offering a prescription pill bottle.

Helen took one and swallowed it with a sip from her water glass.

Amy spoke up. 'That reminds me, Mom, you said you were getting a lot of those lately, have you seen a doctor about it? Is it serious?'

They talked about Evelyn's health for a while and Helen noticed she was doing the same thing Daria had in trying to pass it off lightly when it was obviously quite serious.

'This family trait is dangerous and unhealthy in the long run, believe me, I know.' Helen stated out loud.

The others all looked at her with surprise but no one could think of a response.

The awkward moment was broken by the arrival of the Maître d' with what should have been the check - and in a way it was exactly that.

'Daria, we were wondering... if it's not too much of an imposition as you have your guitar with you... would you honor us with a song?'

Daria was completely flustered by this. 'I'm not... I didn't...'

'Oh I'd love to hear you sing here where it's not too loud.' Evelyn interjected. Amy was nodding enthusiastically. Daria looked stricken.

'We have a microphone all set up over by the piano, please, it would make everyone so happy?'

Daria stood up suddenly. 'OK but I... I... I need to go to the bathroom...' Then she fled.

The three Barksdales looked at each other then Amy said. 'I'd better go after her she seemed...'

'No.' Helen was already on her feet. 'I'll go.'

'No I'll...' Amy went to stand too but Helen caught her shoulder and firmly pressed her back into her seat.

'I got this.' Helen said to Amy with a crooked smile before turning on her heel and following after her daughter.

Helen liked an opulent restroom as well as the next businesswoman but the "Powder Room" at the Settlement reminded her more of a seraglio from some Arabian Nights fantasy than anything else. She found Daria in tears with her phone in her hand saying 'Come ON Stacy! Pick UP!'

'Daria?'

'Gah! I'm sorry Mom you scared me what's...?'

'What is it Daria? Just tell me.'

'It's just... it's stupid you wouldn't understand.'

'Try me.' Helen folded her arms and leaned against the wall.

'Look I... when I go on stage Stacy does my makeup and she's not answering her phone so...'

'Do you need makeup? You're young and your skin is...'

'YES! I need makeup I... I can't go on stage unless... look it's stupid all right I'm a...' Daria shut up and stalked into a cubicle and locked the door.

Helen walked over and leaned against the door jam.

'I get it Daria, I really do.'

'How could you...?'

'No. Listen. It's like me and my suits that... Quinn... always made fun of. When I stand up in court it's my years of training and experience that I depend on but there's no way I could even go into court unless I was dressed properly and it's not just the dress code or protocol - it's more like the old way the British lawyers wear wigs, you know?'

'Daria?'

'Daria?'

'Daria, have you got your makeup? I could do it for you?' Helen offered.

The door clicked open and just for a tiny second the little girl who'd called her Mommy looked out, her heart in her eyes. 'Would you?' Daria said in a tiny voice.

'Of course I will sweetie, now come over here and sit on the ottoman and give me your purse.' It was at that moment that Helen remembered what Daria's real smile looked like, rare and small and precious as any jewel.

It wasn't as good as Stacy would have done it but it was good enough. With a more confident step Daria took her guitar and sat near the piano. After tuning up she looked around and smiled at her audience, gauging their tastes, mostly older crowd so...

She played the intricate opening chords and then sang:  
_You do something to me_  
_Something deep inside_  
_I'm hanging on the wire_  
_For a love I'll never find_

_You do something wonderful_  
_Then chase it all away_  
_Mixing my emotions_  
_That throws me back again_

_Hanging on the wire,_  
_I'm waiting for the change_  
_I'm dancing through the fire,_  
_Just to catch a flame_  
_An' feel real again..._  
_(Paul Weller)_

This earned her a big round of applause and calls to do an encore.

She did a solo version of George Harrison's "While My Guitar Gently Weeps"  
and finished off with PinkFloyd's "Wish You Were Here". Helen was astounded by how many people, including her own mother, knew the words and sang along:  
_So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,_  
_blue skies from pain._  
_Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?_  
_A smile from a veil?_  
_Do you think you can tell?_

_And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? _  
_Hot ashes for trees?_  
_Hot air for a cool breeze?_  
_Cold comfort for change?_

_And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?_  
_How I wish, how I wish you were here._  
_We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,_  
_Running over the same old ground. _  
_What have you found? The same old fears._  
_Wish you were here._


End file.
